


Cigarette Daydreams

by alexrun



Series: Cigarette Daydreams [1]
Category: The Walking Dead (TV)
Genre: Anxiety Disorder, Betrayal, Controlling, Crying, Daddy Kink, Depression, Dom Negan (Walking Dead), Eventual Smut, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Guns, Insecure!Reader, Jealousy, Knives, Loss of Virginity, Mental Health Issues, NSFW, Negan (Walking Dead) Being an Asshole, Negan (Walking Dead) Swears, Negan (Walking Dead) is an automatic warning, Negan Being Negan (Walking Dead), Nervousness, Nudity, Past Abuse, Possessive Behavior, Possessive Negan (Walking Dead), Praise Kink, Promise, Protective Negan (Walking Dead), Protectiveness, Psychological Torture, Rape/Non-con Elements, Reader is virgin, Reader-Insert, Sad, Self Confidence Issues, Self-Esteem Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred, Sex, Sexy Negan (Walking Dead), Shy, Slow Burn, Smut, Sweet Negan (Walking Dead), Swords, Top Negan (Walking Dead), Torture, Unhealthy Relationships, Voice Kink, Weapons, Zombie Apocalypse, all of em - Freeform, bad words oh no, body image issues, chubby!reader, cursing, heavily based off the show, insecure, it will all be okay tho!, manipulative, reader - Freeform, reader doesn't curse tho, reader is super duper uncomfortable with their body boi, reader isn't like....skinny..., reader stutters a lot, shy!reader, this gonna be fun lol
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-10-17
Updated: 2018-02-28
Packaged: 2019-01-18 20:08:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 7
Words: 27,893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12395289
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alexrun/pseuds/alexrun
Summary: Hey there folks UwUSo, I'm planning on maybe 15 chapters, that's my goal, 10 is okay, any less and I will be disappointed in myself xD':Also, a little disclaimer, I have only watched the show guys, I haven't read anything so I honestly am basing Negan's character off the show and fanfics only ahhh h, sorry. I haven't really worked with a character like this before so I'm quite terrified haha.BUT okay the summaryyyy:I'm just kinda gonna see where the writing takes me, but I know for a fact that the reader is perceived as female, kinda on the chubby side, alone, has some mental health issues, and is fatally shy/quiet. Annnd we all know how Negan is, basically the opposite? To your surprise, however, he finds you to be the most precious and beautiful thing he's ever seen. But, what will happen when you find out the behind the scenes of this egotistical man?GUYS I also want to say that this is very very triggering. It's full of self-harm, abusive behavior, and toxic relationships.





	1. Scissor Pipe

It was very dark. You glance up at the night sky, no moon. _Must be a new moon…_ You think sadly to yourself, missing the presence of the large, white ball of light. Being alone in darkness always freaked you out a little, not knowing what could be around the corner merrily just adds to your already existing anxiety. 

Dried leaves crack beneath your clumsy, black boots and you wince at the sudden sound. _Omg, can you not? Do you want to die?_ You think to yourself again, not daring to open your mouth and make more noise. The air was crisp and cold, making puffs of clouds escape your mouth with every breath you exhale. Your (e/c) eyes are wide and you can feel your pupils trying to adjust to the dark scenery of the woods. Your knees are slightly bent as you tiptoe to what you think may be a good place to scavenge and rest for the night.

 _I didn’t even realize it was getting dark, how reckless!_ The winter season is finally in full swing, and somehow you forget every year how the sun sets quicker than usual. _These kinds of mistakes will get me killed_. Your listening very intently as you slowly make your way through the dense trees and shrubs. Any sign of movement or sound of moans will signal you to whip out your scissor pipe. Your weapon of mass destruction, so far, has been a long, solid water pipe with a flurry of scissors taped to one end. It’s all covered in dried blood and flesh pieces by now, but it hasn’t failed you yet. It almost has a sentimental value in your heart, mostly because you constructed it yourself in a dire time of need. You pull it out from between your belt and hip, fondly admiring your work before tightly keeping it in your fist. 

You finally come upon what looks to be an old drug store on the side of a road. You stop at the black pavement to look across the street at the building, seeing if it looks to be already occupied. Feeling a little exposed on the side of the road, you crouch down on your knees as you watch for signs of movement. Luckily, you have sewed some hard fabric patches onto the knee area of your skinny, black jeans. After watching the building for a few more heartbeats, you glance down the street on either side, making sure there are no walkers that will see you run across. Since the coast seems to be clear, the adrenalin kicks in and you take a deep breath to sprint across the road. Reaching the building, you flatten yourself against the wall and slide to the entrance door, which is hanging by its hinges. Slowly, you creek the door slightly more open, only to have it snap off its support and slam very loudly on the floor. 

“Jesus!!” You yell out loud as the sudden sound scared the lights out of you. 

Now with a shaking grip on your pipe, you hold it out in front of you, waiting for whatever walkers there are in the shop to come out. Scrapping sounds in another room catches your attention as you stand at the entrance still. Tilting your head, you quietly make your way across the rubble-ridden floor to a door in the back. _It’s definitely coming from here_. You confirm to yourself. You reach a shaky hand out to grab the rusty doorknob. With a quick intake of air, you push the door open, pipe ready to smash a head. 

For a heartbeat, there’s nothing coming from the dark room, so you slightly calm your muscles. Peeking inside, you can see a desk that’s been shoved to the corner of a wall and papers are scattered on the ground. Dust makes you cough aloud, and the scrapping suddenly continues, a groaning can almost be heard. Thoroughly confused, you pull out a lighter from your pocket and strike it. The small flame ignites, showing deep shadows in the small room. Upon further inspection, there are handprints all over the walls and blood is pooling from behind the door. There’s glass and other broken things on the floor as well. When you see the blood, you sigh and brace yourself. _This is probably going to be something messed up…_ You step into the room fully and move the door to reveal what’s behind it. A walker is dragged out into the open as you close the door, its neck is tied with some hefty rope to the doorknob. Your eyebrows furrow in disgust. _How can people be so cruel? Just to leave a person here to turn, tied to a door_. You scoff at its poor attempts to get you and you shake your head. It doesn’t even have a bottom torso, which confuses you more because you don’t see the other half anywhere.

Shaking your head slightly, you pull out a knife and slide it easily into the rotting head, stopping the walker’s struggles and moans. Its head drops heavily to the side, but its body is still held up by the rope. You kneel down and cut the rope off its neck and lie it down carefully, mostly because you don’t want it to accidentally touch you. Silently, you leave the room and close the door. 

You make your way back to the main store area to scavenge. For a second, you thought you had seen a flash coming from outside. _Lighting?_ You think, looking out the dusty, cracked windows. The sky looks relatively clear, and this only makes you more worried. _Pictures aren’t a thing anymore…flashlights? Cars?_ You try and think of what it could have been, but upon seeing no movement outside, you shake it off as just seeing things. You turn back to the shelves that are scattered around the store, some are knocked over and broken. There are a lot of empty bottles laying around, and open wrappers of food you would like to have eaten. Sighing, you reach to the very back of one shelf and find two painkiller pills. You shrug, at least it’s something, and continue to the next one.

After scuffling around the dusty shelves, you’ve found three band-aids, a protein bar and a half, and a water bottle. The water made you very happy and you quickly roll up a crooked chair behind the front counter and to sit down in. _Fresh water!_ You praise yourself as you open the bottle, realizing that it didn’t snap open. You furrow your eyebrows, _maybe someone refilled it?_ You don’t really trust the stranger who might have refilled it, so you bring the bottle up to your nose to give it a sniff. Immediately, a very strong and fiery smell burns your nostrils and make your eyes water.

“Oh my g-! Alcohol? Really?” You rub your nose violently after the attack and close the bottle, “Lame…”

Although, you decide to keep it for later in case you need it and throw it in your (f/c) backpack. You sigh a little and slouch on the chair, looking down at your boots. Something catches your eye in a cubby under the desk your facing. Curiously, you bend down and swing open the small door.

“Oh wow, a gun..?” A black, small handgun is sitting in the cubby collecting cobwebs. 

You reach in and grab it, shaking the dust off as you do so. Sitting back in the chair, you analyze the object, flipping it from side to side. _Well…this is cool, I think._ You’re not entirely sure if this is considered a “good” gun or not, but you act like you do to seem cool. You slip the gun onto the side of your backpack and return to slouching and thinking silently in the crooked chair. 

Dust floats around the dark area, slowly settling on your nose and the desk. A cool breeze makes its way through the cracks in the structure and the makeshift barricade you made in the doorway. You can hear the trees rustle and other buildings outside creak. There are other noises, very quiet ones, that suggest there may be more walkers roaming the area as well. As you sit there, taking in the night, you slowly feel your eyes starting to give in on you. _No!_ You say sternly to yourself, not wanting to sleep yet. You were definitely tired, but for some reason, there's an itch in your mind warning you to not doze off quite yet. Frustrated at yourself, you get up to keep your mind awake.

There aren’t any mattresses or blankets left in the drug store you’re in to sleep with, so you make your way to the entrance. You push the shelf out of the way and feel the cool air blow in your face from the outside. You smile, liking the way it feels, and leave the building to see what else is around you. _I don’t want to go too far, though…_ You think, looking back at our drug store. Taking a deep breath in, you start walking to a couple of abandoned cars down the road that are next to a gas station. Gravel crunches under your boots as you come up to them. You cup your hands to look through the window. There doesn’t seem too much in there, but something looks off about them. You wrinkle your nose in disappointment and continue to the second car. Neither have anything useful in them, but they look well cared for, like they haven’t been sitting around during an apocalypse. As you walk, you suddenly hear something shuffling near you.

You freeze in place, putting your hand on your hip where the pipe is being held. Your eyes are huge as you stifle your breathing to hear clearer. As you look around, you don’t see anything. Annoyance pricks at the back of your head as you let yourself ease up. Then you hear it again, but louder. You whip your head around to the gas station, _there’s definitely some walkers in there, and where there are walkers, there are supplies_. You think with a smirk at your dumb statement and walk carefully to the entrance. You think it’d be best to make noise and attract them outside instead of ambushing them in close quarters. Spotting a large rock, you pick it up and give it a good swing towards one of light bulbs hanging in the entrance. It shatters nicely, sprinkling broken glass onto the dirt ground. Something strange happens though, instead of the noise getting louder, it goes completely silent. Your heart drops.

_Those aren’t walkers._

A booming voice comes out of the station, “Who the hell did that?!”

Another voice, “It wasn’t us, it must’ve been a walker out there or somethin’.”

You want to scream, you just disturbed a group of what sound like men trying to spend the night there. With your breath caught in your throat, you quickly turn around and try to see where to go.

“Well, do I have to do it myself or is someone going to kill it?!” The angry voice returns.

Murmurs erupt in the building and you can hear feet rustling as someone most definitely is getting ready to kill you. You look to the street, you could run across it and make it the woods. _There’s no way I can run that fast…_

“Hurry up! I’d like to sleep a little before we head back.”

 _Crap, crap, crap!_ You decide last minute to run behind the building, hoping they don’t decide to come out the back door. You slam yourself against the wall and start breathing heavily from the adrenalin. _I should’ve just stayed in the store!_

You hear the door to the gas station open and feet come stomping out. Hot clouds come out of your nose as you try and control your breathing and listen. The steps slowly make their way around the front area by the cars.

“Nothing here!” Whoever is outside yells. 

“Then you’re obviously not looking!” You hear more footsteps come out.

“Am I the only one that heard it? No. Why? Because we all woke up! Now look,” The intimidating voice pauses, “Broken glass, that was not here before, so what does that mean?”

Pauses again.

The voice dips down to a terrifying growl, “It means we’re not dealing with walkers, fellas.”

The other voice, “Are you saying someone knows we’re here and is trying to get our attention?”

You don’t hear the rest. Your knees nearly buckle as you slowly peek around the corner. You don’t see anyone in that direction, and there are a few trees to hide behind on the way to your drug store. Nodding, you make a break for it from behind the building, hoping they’re not standing where they can see you. You nearly crash into the first tree, breathing heavily into the trunk as you square up your body against it to hide.

“The fuck was that? Get your guns!” You hear the voice yell at the others inside the gas station. 

You look up at the sky, not knowing if you’ll make it out of this alive. _Come on, just go!_ You order yourself and focus your attention on the next tree that’s further down the road. Footsteps and guns cocking are ringing in your ears as you jog to the tree. Luckily, this tree is a bit wider, so it’s easier to hide behind quickly. You let out your breath as the drug store is only a short jog away now, _just need some distance between me and the angry men._

That’s when the first gunshot goes off, making you jump out of your skin. _Do they WANT to attract more danger?_ With your heart racing, you force your legs to move and sprint for the store. _Oh god, what if they’re already on my heels??_ Puffs of white air come out of your mouth, leaving trails, as you run for the store. It all feels like slow motion, as your shaking body rushes into the building.

Disturbed dust floats around wildly as your eyes fly open, not realizing they were shut. _I made it! But…for how long?_ You leave the entrance open so no one suspects anyone to be in here. You crouch in a dark corner where a cracked window is to keep watch of the group. You can hear their voices and footsteps getting louder. 

_I can’t stay here, they’ll definitely find me…_ You think angrily.


	2. You Can't Hide

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello!
> 
> Thank you guys for the support already! It definitely gets me motivated!!
> 
> Well, I hope you all enjoy this chapter, guess who you come face to face with?? c;

_Okay, there’s another building I can run into that has more hiding spots…_ You think sternly to yourself, trying to calm your own nerves. The men chasing you, guns in hand, are now closing in. You can hear their clumsy boots slamming against the door in the back of your drug store. Every loud thump and crack makes you choke on your breathing. You need to move but your nerves have you petrified, you don’t understand why, but the vibes they give off are threatening a panic attack right now.

Ripping yourself off the wall in the corner, you dart for the open entrance that they have yet to investigate. Without batting an eye, you just keep running for the next building. All caution out the window, you are definitely using the “flight” in “fight or flight” mode right now. Your legs are numb from the cold and your adrenalin, the only way you know they’re still there is when you look down and see them. Puffs of hot air trail behind you as you hear them spot you. _No surprise there, I guess…_  
“Ay, look! Our intruder!” Someone shouts and you hear them chasing and shooting at you.

Bullets fly past you as you round the corner of the larger building, desperately throwing yourself, legs first, through a broken window. The glass sprinkles down on your back as you crouch on the ground after landing. You shake your head and torso to rid of the bits and quickly look at your surroundings. Thanks to your nerves, your pupils catch movement coming at you from your right side. A nasty walker lunges at you, gripping your right shoulder and going in for the bite. You quickly drag yourself away, its rotting fingers tearing at your jean jacket, and you bring your scissor pipe down on its skull. It immediately drops as you rip your weapon out of its head. The blades drip with blood that you flick off quickly, splattering the floor around you. _Gross._ You think sarcastically, as you’ve seen this a million times before. _Um, don’t forget about the men chasing you!_ Your brain yells and you snap back into reality.

A bullet shatters the rest of the window you just jumped through, making you duck in surprise. Hurriedly, you look for a staircase to get to higher ground. There’s a very rickety looking one you run up to, there are planks missing and scary looking support mechanisms. _Just my luck!_ You think, taking a step on the first stair, making it creak quietly. Taking a sharp breath, you start to run up the stairs as the men break the windows and doors off the place. _Why can’t they just let me go!?_ You think in horror at their brutality. A plank gives in and your left leg shoots straight through the wood. You let out a quick shout of pain as splinters line a gash on the side of your thigh. _Crap, crap, crap, ow..!_ You rip your leg out quickly, clenching your teeth, and make your way to the second floor.

You take a second to catch your breath, leaning against the wall. The group has made it in and are now stomping around the first floor. With curiosity pricking your interest, you go to one of the many holes in the floor and crouch down on your belly to peek through. There’s one tall man who looks to be the leader, as he is just standing there in the middle of everyone, watching them search the place. His black hairlines a very big forehead, and he’s sporting handlebar mustache. You scrunch your nose up in disproval of his fashion statement. The rest just look like normal people as they come back to report to him.

 _Okay, gotta do something to scare them away._ You think and look around for heavy things to drop on them. You’ve never actually killed a living person before. You’ve seen a lot of deaths, up close, sure, but never at your own fault. The best solution to not wanting to kill anyone is to scare them. _Fear rules people._ You think grimly. You gather a few hefty rocks, a couple large books, some planks of woods, and even a dead walker. With a mischievous glint in your eyes, you take the lightest things first, a plank of wood, and chuck it through a hole in the floor straight at a man walking directly underfoot. It lands on his shoulder, making him shout and stumble over onto his bum.

“What the fuck!” He yells in anger.

Other men run over and look up the whole it came through, but you’ve already hidden from line of sight. 

“They’re up there! Go!” The mustache man shouts.

Before they get a chance to find the stairs, you quickly start throwing rocks and books at other men through the broken floor. Some hit their head, others get hit in the back or chest. Your blood runs cold as some of the people look to be knocked unconscious, _s’not my fault you’re trying to kill me! Or is it…?_

Feet running up the staircase makes you whip your head around. Fear shoots through your veins and you quickly go for the big guns; the dead walker. You grab it by the shoulders and drag it roughly to the stairs. You see big dark shadows making their way up. Hastily, you shove, almost throw, the walker down the stairs, along with some more smaller rocks to trip them up. Immediately, you hear confused shouts and gunshots ring through the building, almost making you lose your hearing for a second.  
Your leg is on fire and you can only bring yourself to limp on it as you try to find an escape while the men are getting through your trap. It’s definitely not an option to jump out the window, as one leg is already out of service, and there are no other staircases. _Damn it! I thought this was working out pretty well..!_ You think in frustration as your heart speeds up and tears threaten to spill out of your eyes. With tight, white knuckles and the threat of feet coming up the stairs, you make a life or death choice out of pure fear. Panting heavily, you grab a chair and throw it at a cracked window, which breaks easily. 

“Hey, get over here!” An angry voice yells at you.

You snap your head around to see two large men rushing you, making sweat drip down your back. You half limp, half sprint towards the window, about to jump when a hand grabs your jacket and yanks you to the ground. You slam your head against the wood floor, seeing stars. Immediately you try to lift yourself up to fight, but a heavy foot comes down on your back, keeping you stuck on the floor.

“Man, you caused a lot of trouble for us, little lady.” The voice of the man stepping on you rings out.

You can barely hear, a loud ringing buzzing going through your head.

“Have anything to say for yourself before we _end_ you?” The other man spits menacingly.

“P-…please…!” You choke out, struggling to breath when the foot on you presses you further into the ground.

You hear them chuckle grossly, making you want to cry. _Don’t let them be this way to you, they have no right to treat you this way! Do something! Do something! Do something! Do-_

Your heads screaming at you, all instincts yelling to fight back, or run, or something. Fire burns through your veins as you keenly spot a shard of broken glass from the window you broke a few seconds ago. 

“Well, that’s not gonna do at all, you caused _a lot_ of trouble tonight. Where we come from, there are consequences to that kinda behavior.” They’re just playing with you now, happily knowing it's making you pee your pants.

It infuriates you. A sudden anger makes you whip out your arm, quickly grabbing the glass and getting a firm grip on it before stabbing the man’s exposed ankle. He hollers in pain, the weight of his foot coming off your back as he falls to the ground. The other man yells in anger and aims to shoot you. You roll out of the way of his bullet, nearly falling into a hole in the floor, and stagger up to your feet. He aims to shoot again but you decide to rush him, using the glass the slice his hand that’s holding the gun at you, making him drop it. He curses at you and grabs a handful of your (h/c) hair, pulling it back harshly. You cry out in pain and try to cut him, flailing around in frustration. He laughs angrily at your attempts, holding you out of reach by your hair. 

“S-Stop!” You shout, tears start falling down your cheeks.

The man tilts his head and gives you a fake, sad face, “Oh, I’m sorry, does it hurt? Does it hurt like my pal’s ankle here?” He gestures to the man bleeding out on the floor.

You hiss at him and try to cut his arm that’s holding your hair, but he quickly grabs your wrist and slams you against a wall. The glass falls to the ground from your hand with a defeated shatter. Your breath gets knocked out of you and you can feel fear starting to take over your body.

“You’re not getting out of this that easy, little girl.” He spits in your face that’s only inches away.

You wince and shut your eyes, threatened by how close he is. He laughs at this, and you can hear his friend shouting for help. The man holding you sighs in annoyance.  
“Just, gimme like two seconds.” He tells his friend over his shoulder, then turns back to you 

In that few seconds, you used it to focus and to regain strength. You kick out your leg so hard that you actually hear his kneecap snap backwards as he falls to the ground.

“You lil’ shit!” He yells in agony, reaching for a gun.

You take no time to be impressed with your work as you sprint down the stairs. Once making it, you see that everyone else is gone. The leader, the men, the unconscious men, all gone. You tilt your head in confusion, _they just left two of their men to be beat up by me? Who are these people?_ You shake your head, which is pounding now and is tender where your hair was pulled violently. You reach back and rub it, strands falling out as you do so. You sigh and walk out of the building, leaving the two men upstairs to fend for themselves. 

Exhausted and with a clouded mind, you go back to the drug store and decide that you’ll never leave again. _Of course, I will though, when I’m not freaking traumatized._ The back and front entrance are now both wide open and ruined. You slide shelves in front of both to at least block the cold air, and you do so for the windows too. Finally, you take off your backpack and lay it on the ground behind the welcome desk. You use it as a pillow and lay your head down gently on it. Then your new wound on your thigh starts to throb, reminding you to take care of it.

“Ughhhh…” You moan as you sit up and unzip your bag.

You pull out the handy bottle of alcohol, some old bandages, and the pain pills. You decide to take the pills first, using the alcohol to wash them down. Your nose scrunches up, your eyes water, and your throat and stomach burn from it. Luckily, it eases the pain of your wounds ever so slightly and relieves your headache a bit. Then, you unbutton your pants and slide them slowly down your thighs, careful not to rub it against your gash. You give it a good look, it’s red and angry, just like you. The bleeding has mostly stopped, but it looks very dirty.

Your eyes tentatively travel up your thighs by your hips. Gently, you bring a hand up and run your thumb over the bumps of faded scars. Before the dead started rising, you had a pretty messed up head. Depression, anxiety, body dysmorphia, and too many insecurities to count. Each day was hell, so compared to now, you get along quite well actually. Of course, you’ve gone through many hardships since the walkers came. Lost family, friends, even random people you only knew for a few days before this cruel world ripped them away. But since you have been by yourself, outdoors, never resting, you feel as though your mental health has gotten better. While physically, you still are very insecure, but you figured that will leave eventually since there’s no one around to look at you anymore.

You’ve only inflicted cuts on yourself a couple of times this year, which is not half bad if you do say so yourself, considering its winter now. There hasn’t even been an urge to do so in quite a while since the last time it happened. You shudder at the memory, shoving it down.

After escaping your thoughts, you take the alcohol and pour it over your wound. It makes you wince at the hot, white pain shooting through your twitching leg. Panting heavily, you then take the old bandages and wrap it slowly around your thigh. Little blood spots seep through the bandage, but it’s not a lot so you don’t concern yourself with it. After sliding your pants back up, you lay down again, the pills starting to kick in. 

Next Day:

 _*SLAM*_  
Your eyes shoot open, pupils dilating. Sitting up straight on the floor, you peek over the desk you slept behind last night. Your body aches and screeches at you to stop moving, but you push past it, nervousness coming over you. The sun dazzles your (e/c) eyes as you try and see out of the one unbroken window. You hear people murmuring and car doors slamming. Gravel shifts and crackles under the many boots shuffling around. Your heart is pounding at the realization of just how many people are, for some reason, in front of your store. _Oh my god, what is happening?! Is there a party I wasn’t invited to?!”_ You think, terrorized. You duck back behind the desk when you see shadows of people coming closer to the window. _Damn, damn, damn, I gotta get out of here._

You glance at your backpack and shove the medical supplies you used on your thigh back into it, including the now half empty alcohol bottle. Sliding your backpack back on your shoulders, you peek over the counter again to see what’s going on. Your greeted by a shit-eating, beard-covered grin and a bright red scarf. 

You nearly shriek and lunge backward, stumbling until the wall meets your back. Your store is invaded by men and women. Okay, maybe you’re being a little overdramatic, but there seems to be no breathing room in your store anymore. You’re terrified and completely lost, knees threatening to buckle on you. _Where the hell did they all come from?!_ Two men are limping in the back of the crowd, and you recognize them straight away. _I s-stabbed his ankle a-and b-br-oke his leg…!_ You feel like fainting.

A low chuckle catches your attention, “Well, what do we have here?” the man in front of your desk asks.

You try to look at him, but his heavy gaze frightens the hell out of you. He’s a wearing a black leather jacket and jeans, he’s leaning against the desk and has a barb-wired baseball bat leaning on his shoulder. You feel like you’re in another universe and you can’t breathe properly anymore. _If I had known this was who they were, I would’ve just let them shoot me._ You think regretfully, keeping eye contact with the lower half of his face rather than his actual eyes.

“Hey, don’t ignore me now, you have a lot of fucking explaining to do, darlin’.” He says loudly, almost in a happy tone, like the whole situation is a game to him.

After not responding, you hear a heavy sigh, “Weapons on the desk, sweet thang.” He orders.

You cringe at the nickname and the order he gives you, not wanting to separate yourself from your only real line of defense. He taps the table impatiently as you battle yourself in your head. Finally, you bend down and grab your scissor pipe, quietly setting it on the desk in front of him.

He glances down and lets out a whistle, “Holy shit! Look at this ladies and gentlemen, we have ourselves a badass up in here.” He booms loudly, sliding your pipe towards himself greedily.

You almost blush at the sudden compliment, _at least I think they’re compliments?_ He then looks back at you, smiling and throwing your pipe to someone to hold. Your heart lurches as you notice he threw your weapon to a familiar man with a handlebar mustache. 

The man with the bat sees you eyeing Simon and chuckles, “Yea, ‘member him? You sure scared the shit out of them, yea, sent them right back to papa!” He suddenly turns to you, “Knocked a few men out, _stabbed_ a few too. Hell, Simon here thought they had been ambushed! What a hell of a plot-fucking-twist to see you standing here, by yourself.”

His voice sounds almost impressed instead of threatening, but you’re still shaking in your shoes. You realize you have to say something or you could get hurt. Furrowing your eyebrows, you try to swallow the frog in your throat quietly and look up again. 

“I-It’s all a m-misunderstanding…” You try to say without sounding weak but horribly fail.

You’re mentally screaming at yourself as the tall man in front of the desk chuckles menacingly, “A misunderstanding, huh?”

You didn’t realize your eyes were shut tight until his voice yells over the crowd, “We’re gonna need some time to talk, no need for reinforcements.”

With that, the group of people in your shop slowly filter out and rev their engines. The man with the baseball bat covered in barb wire stands perfectly still, holding a hard stare with you, a slight grin on his lips. You keep glancing away every other heartbeat, thoroughly freaked out at the thought of being alone with this man. _I think I’d like the witnesses back, please._ You don’t realize it, but you end up staring at your boots as the last person walks out. A heavy silence fills the room, the only sound is the soft wisps of the morning breeze through the cracks of your building.

“So!” The man in front of you starts pacing very slowly, “Do you have the slightest idea as to who I am, and where you are?”

You glance up, feeling a little bit clearer in the head now that the crowd is gone, “U-uh, n-no…” you look back down, fidgeting with your fingers.  
He chuckles, “I, am Negan, and my group here is called the Saviors, and you’re in our boundaries.”

Negan swings his bat around with one, lazy arm and you watch it intently, not sure if he’s planning on using it anytime soon or not. You feel his presence getting closer, and hear the creak of the desk as he leans against it, directly in front of you. His boots are nearly touching yours, and your breath gets caught in your throat as the bat settles loudly on the ground.

“I-I’m sorry, th-they were _shooting_ at me a-and I was just looking for something warm b-but I thou-ght there w-were walkers s-so I-…” You blabber out some sort of apology that you think might get you out of this mess.

As you stutter you slowly realize he’s been quiet for too long, and you look up to see if he’s even paying attention. When you lock eye contact, your throat closes and he gives you a slight smirk. You’re not sure what it is but having him so much closer than before is sending your anxiety into overdrive. When you cut off your own sentence, he takes the chance to take a deep breath in.

“Listen, doll, I appreciate the apology, but we here have a _very_ strict rule system. Hell, it’s what got us to where we are today. I can’t just cast that all aside for one little…what was it? Misunderstanding.” Negan tells you, keeping an uncomfortable amount of eye contact.

As what he says sinks in, your panic rises even more, “B-but,” he cuts you off by holding up a finger.

“No ‘but’s, darling. You and everything you own belongs to me now, understand?” His voice dipping low to express how serious he is.

Your eyes fly open at how ridiculous he sounds to you right now.

Your mouth hangs open, flabbergasted, “ _Belong_ to you? W-what…what does that even mean?! Are you crazy?” you raise your voice slightly and wave your arms around.

His expression darkens, “You are in no place to be talkin’ back, young lady.”

You choke on your next words. _I cannot believe this is happening!_ Your eyebrows are furrowed in annoyance, your cheeks red with anger, and your palms are sweaty with confusion and anxiousness. Your legs are also shaking, knees nearly smacking each other in horror. 

“Don’t hold back now, sweet thang, I don’t like being ignored.” He says with a threatening grin.

You stare at his face, your eyes wandering around his facial features to catch even the slightest sign of this just being a sick joke. Finally, you come to your senses and cough a little to clear to your throat.

“I just-I just don’t understand, a-am I going to some kind of-of jail? Or-…?” You blurt out, trying to play along with this man’s game and sound respectful.  
He leans back, looking to the side and scratching his beard, “I’m taking you back to the Sanctuary. We’ll talk more then.”

 _It’s like talking to a brick wall!_ You scream in annoyance to yourself. Negan grabs your upper, left arm to ensure you don’t try and run away. You flinch at his sudden, strong grip, expecting to feel pain. Unfortunately, the pain you feel comes from your thigh’s wound as he forces you to walk so suddenly. Negan notices and stops, making you fall into his side for support. 

“Have somethin’ wrong there, doll?” He gestures to your leg while wrapping his arm around your shoulders to keep you upright.

You blush furiously at the sudden contact and nod, “M-my leg fell through the stairs...” You choke out quietly.

Negan makes a clicking sound with his tongue, “We’ve got a great doctor at the Sanctuary, fix you right up darlin’.” 

Your head is full of confusing emotions as he helps you the rest of the way out and into his truck. _Why is he being so nice? Or maybe he’s not, actually, since you’re kind of trapped now?_ You think, frustrated at the situation you’ve gotten yourself into. Your drug store slowly disappears in the side mirror, and a tear threatens to fall down your cheek.


	3. Sweet As Candy

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello sinners!
> 
> This is a big chapter here, haha yes, yup, I have been on a writing rampage and ignoring my homework! :D (it's okay, I do my homework like a good noodle). So, in this chapter, you properly meet Dr. Carson and Dwight! There is also some one on one time with the big bad wolf. >w>;
> 
> The only warning in this chapter I think is the mention of self-inflicted scars, but that's it haha. c:
> 
> OH. I also wanted to share my secret tumblr here for you all to check out if ya like. It's NSFW so be careful babes, but it's mainly centered around Negan right now so idk, it could add to this story tbh. ;3c
> 
> Anyway, here it is: https://whoam-i-kidding.tumblr.com/ (it looks better on mobile, promise)

The silence of the drive is killing you. Negan had sat you right next to him on the passenger side of his car. Neither of you had spoken since the store, and it had been a good 10 minutes at least. While that may not seem like long, to you it felt like hours. Your palms were clammy as you picked you nails frantically, eliminating any nicely grown fingernails you’ve been working on. A forest surrounds the cracked road you two are driving on. Your eyes have been fixed on the trees zipping by, not daring to look anywhere near Negan’s line of sight. A crick in your neck starts to form from the stiff position you’ve kept when you hear Negan clear his throat.

“So, you got a name, doll?” He asks.

You flinch, preparing yourself to politely turn your head to look at him. Luckily, his eyes are glued to the road and not watching for your answer. You feel comfortable enough without his hard gaze to watch the side of his face. You shakily take a steady breath, preparing to talk.

“(Y/n)…” You answer softly.

You see a grin pull at the sides of his lips, “(Y/n),” Negan repeats as if tasting your name on his tongue, “I fucking like that, suits you.”

Your breath catches in your throat from his compliment to your name. _I don’t know how to react, this is confusing._ Your eyebrows furrow and he quickly glances at you, making quick eye contact. You look back out the window after being caught staring at him.

“You seem pretty damn tense, (y/n)!” Negan chuckles as he notices how flustered you are because of him.

You look back at him since he’s watching the road again, “W-well, yea. I mean, I-I don’t exactly know if I’m being captured o-or what right now.”

You see that damn smirk again on his face. Not a word comes out of his mouth, leaving you in obvious suspense. You don’t like it. A knot starts to form in the pits of your stomach as your mind starts to think of what might be lying ahead for you. _Torture? Confinement? Slave work? Death?_ You think frantically, going back to those sweaty palms and broken nails.

At The Sanctuary:

After another hour and a half of agonized waiting, Negan slows the truck down to a fenced entrance. Your eyes frantically take in every detail of the place. There are zombies skewered and tied to the fence’s outline, and tired people dressed in rags containing them. You gasp at how inhumane the entire thing looks. Men with weapons were supervising, and they looked perfectly healthy. You noticed the people with the worn-out clothing didn’t have any weapons on them though, just sticks and poles to move walkers. You swallow hard, watching as the engine is killed. You flinch when your door flies open, a man reaches for your arm and yanks you out of the truck. You squeak in shock and pain as your thigh is, once again, forced to react to the sudden movement. The blonde man has a tight grip on your arm that’s bound to leave bruises. You stumble into his chest as you lose footing, he sighs and shoves you off, making your limp even more noticeably without support.

The man is suddenly pulled out of your sight, his grip disappearing from your arm as well. You turn around quickly to see what happened. Negan is holding him back by the shoulder, maintaining complete eye contact with you. 

“Hey Dwighty boy, that’s not how we treat guests, now is it?” Negan says in a light, but threatening tone, still looking directly at you.

“U-uh but- I mean…usually…” the blonde man named Dwight stutters, obviously very confused.

Only then does Negan break from your eyes to slowly turn his head to Dwight, “No, no it’s not.”

With that, he pats a baffled Dwight on the shoulder passive aggressively and walks over to your side. You watch him carefully, slightly terrified at the tension Negan just made and finished by himself. He pays no mind to your reaction and holds out an arm for you to grab, smiling down at you. You stare at the gesture, unsure if to take it or not. After a few heartbeats of waiting, you finally reach out and wrap an arm around his. He chuckles with satisfaction, making you wince at how compliant you’re being right now. You two start walking into the large, industrial building in front of you and you only assume it to be the so-called “Sanctuary”. 

Inside, there are many large areas, hallways, doors, stairs, it really confuses you. The only sense of direction you have is the arm you’re holding onto right now. You gasp as you pass by a group of people, who all kneel down on one knee for some reason. Cold sweat drips down your back when you realize it’s because of Negan. You realize now that the situation you are in may not be a good one, and you’re only seeing half of what is to come.

Negan turns to you as you reach a door, “Listen, doll, those people back there kneel because they respect me.”

He says this in such a genuine tone, you almost believe him. _I don’t think I’d do that though, a good handshake does the job just as well._ You think to yourself as you nod slightly, not wanting to look up at him again. 

“Don’t ignore me, baby girl, I fucking hate that shit.” He rumbles.

Your eyes shoot up at him, and you suddenly remember that he is a threat, “Y-yea, I get it, s’cool, I guess…” your voice trails off.

Negan seems to get what he wants and chuckles, bringing up a hand to brush a strand of hair out of your face. The sudden, foreign contact frightens you and you jerk away, looking up at him with concern. He meets your gaze and smirks, pulling his hand away.

“I get it, a lot to fucking take in, huh?” He leans down and you can feel his breath on your ear, “You’ll have to fucking get used to it, though.” 

You freeze at what he just said, shivers running down your spine. You don’t have much time to react as he takes a few steps even closer to you. You back up, feeling pressured by his massive presence until your back hits the wall. You start to breathe erratically as his arms come up on either side of you, trapping you in front of him. His face is only inches away from yours, making you look down at his chest instead of his eyes. With your nerves rising, you feel yourself start to sweat, getting hotter and hotter. You can tell that your cheeks are probably gaining color form the warmth on your face. 

“You look so fucking good, baby girl.” He mumbles, “All hot and bothered, just for me.”

You see him pull a cocky smirk and your breath is caught in your throat. The fact that he thinks you’re uncomfortable because you’re attracted to him annoys you. You shut your eyes, trying to gain the confidence to talk.

“I-it’s not th-that, I-I…” You start but rails off as you hear him softy laugh, obviously not listening to your excuses.

Your heart starts to pound so fast that it’s all you can hear, fear taking hold of you. From the corner of your eye, you can see his hand coming to your face slowly. You feel your skin start to crawl just as the door you two are by opens, catching Negan’s attention and stopping his advancements on you. You sigh slightly out of relief as Negan takes some steps back, turning to the man in the door with a grin.

“Well, (y/n), I’d like you to meet Dr. Carson,” Negan says suddenly as if nothing was happening between you two at all.

You glance at the doctor and inside the room, it reminds you of when you used to go in for checkups as a kid. You almost smile at the memory. The lengthy man comes into view again. He’s wearing a long, white lab coat and looks to be in his 50’s. He smiles warmly at you, and you can’t help but smile back.

“Dr. Carson, this is (y/n),” Negan begins, glancing down at you, “she’s got a pretty bad cut on her leg, fix her up will ya?”

Dr. Carson nods, “Of course.”

The doctor extends a welcoming hand and you take it immediately, limping inside of his office. You glance back at Negan, who’s watching you intently. You still feel hot and uncomfortable under his gaze, and you can’t help the feeling his not done with you yet. He soon switches his attention back to Dr. Carson. He waves for the man to come outside of his office and talk privately.

Negan glances over his shoulder at you, holding a finger and saying, “Give us a moment.” Before closing the door.

“Don’t let her go any-fucking-where, I’ll have Dwight waiting out here when you’re done with her or if anything happens.” Negan hisses at the doctor.

Negan’s voice seemed to have changed very dramatically now that the door was between you two. He sounded strict and menacing, it scares you. The words are muffled by the walls, so it’s hard to make out the rest, but you’re glad to not be on the other end of that conversation. You shrug it off and lean against the patient’s bed to give your leg a break. With a soft sigh, you look around the office as the men talk. 

There are a lot of cabinets and drawers overflowing with medical supplies. You’re shocked at their large hoard, it was like the apocalypse never happened here. The doctor even had a desk. You walk over to it when you see shiny colored lollipops sitting on the table. _Omg, no way. This place is amazing!_ You quickly grab some and shove it in your pocket before anyone comes back in. You look around, seeing if there is anything you could take without anyone noticing. You stop your train of thought as you realize that this place seems strict, so they probably keep everything in an inventory. _They wouldn’t notice a few things, it could’ve gotten lost in transit or something._ You think mischievously and go for some antibacterial medicine and painkillers. After shoving them into your pockets, you lean back on the bed, waiting for the doctor to come back.

The door creaks open and Dr. Carson walks in. He smiles warmly and you return the gesture. Quietly, he walks over to the bed and pats on it, inviting you to sit on it while he shuffles through papers on his desk. You hoist yourself onto the bed, crunching the thin paper lining on it. Holding one paper, in particular, Dr. Carson turns to you.

“(Y/n), right?” He asks, still looking at the paper.

You nod, “Yea.”

He smiles and looks up, “I have your new file right here, is it alright that I ask a few questions? Nothing to worry about, I assure you.”

You tilt your head, slightly confused, “Uhm…new file? W-what does that mean?”

Dr. Carson chuckles softly, “Well, now that you are one of us, you are now, also, my patient. So, I keep a record of everyone’s health here.” He gestures to some filing cabinets.

Your eyes widen and your mouth drops open, “W-wait, ‘one of you’? Like, a Savior?” you ask, “I-I never agreed to that, I-I don’t r-really want to stay…sorry, no offense.”

Dr. Carson’s gaze seems to darken slightly as he looks away, “Ah, I see,” is all he sighs.

You’re slightly concerned if he’s about to lash out at you or not when he comes closer.

“Listen, (y/n), this place…it’s safer here than out there but…this all comes at a cost.” The doctor says to you quietly, as if afraid of someone eavesdropping.

You tremble at his words. _So, this place does have some secrets…_ Your curiosity gets the best of you.

“What do you mean?” You ask in the same, quiet tone as the doctor’s.

He leans back and starts shuffling through his medical drawers. You watch him intently, waiting for his reply.

“Please remove your pants so I can get a good look at that cut, yeah?” Dr. Carson calls out while gathering supplies.

You feel yourself deflate. _Everyone here is like talking to a brick wall…_ You think, frustrated. You listen to the doctor and start to unbuckle your pants. Dr. Carson walks over and sets down some disinfectant, wipes, a needle and thread, and some clean bandages. He pulls up a stool and sits in front of you, waiting for you to remove your pants.

Suddenly you freeze, remembering your self-inflicted scars. Regret washes over you and your hands start to shake. _I’ve never shown anyone my scars before…_ You think back to before the apocalypse, you remember telling therapists about your struggles, but never showed them in person. The doctor seems to notice your hesitation and clears his throat. You also feel a warm hand on your leg, reassuring you.

“I have been here a long time, (y/n).” He starts softly, “I’ve seen a lot of things, things you probably didn’t even think were possible. There’s nothing you could possibly show me that will offend or frighten me.” He ends his little speech with a small smile.

You feel yourself relax ever so slightly as you trust his kind gaze.

“I-it’s just, uhm, it’s not anything you have to worry about, I’m fine, honestly.” You mumble as you slowly start to pull your pants down, letting them rest at your ankles before kicking them onto the floor.

“As far as I’m concerned, I never saw a thing.” He winks and helps you lay onto your side, opposite of the gash.

He gently peels your old bandages off, dried blood painfully clinging to your tender skin. You wince slightly. He whispers an apology and grabs some cotton wipes and disinfectant. He cleans your gash, which nearly brings tears of pain to your eyes, but you manage to hold it together pretty well. All the while, he’s asking you questions about your health, allergies, history, etc.

“You have a very high pain tolerance, don’t you?” Dr. Carson asks while throwing the dirty wipes away.

You sigh shakily and give a small chuckle, “I guess so…”

The doctor proceeds to give your wound a few stitches on the deepest parts. After he finishes, he pulls out the majority of the splinters surrounding the wound and wraps it all up with clean, soft bandages.

You sigh contently, your wound feeling much better, still raw, but better. Dr. Carson helps you off the bed and get your pants back on without hurting yourself.

“I’m sending you out to Dwight now, he works closely with Negan, I assume you may be escorted to your new room.” He informs you casually.

All you hear is panic. _My new ROOM? What is this place? A hotel?!_

“Am I a prisoner now? Please, tell me what’s happening.” You beg Dr. Carson, trying to hide your nerves.

He shakes his head and looks at you with a mixture of emotions, “I don’t know everything, but I assume that if Negan intended to punish you, he wouldn’t have sent you here to get help.”

You want to cry at the waiting game you’re forced to play, but thank Dr. Carson anyway for his help. Even though it wasn’t what you wanted, it did make you relax a little more, knowing that you at least weren’t going to get hurt.

The doctor quickly stops you before opening the door, turning to you hesitantly, “…I want you to regard my office as a safe place, (y/n), please. If you ever need anything, know that you’re always welcome and will never be in harm’s way here.”

Dr. Carson smiles down at you with a willing look in his eyes. You are a bit surprised by his kind words, almost like he’s preparing you for something bad. The thought that you have to stay in this place long enough to return to his office terrifies you. All the same, you feel eternally grateful for the doctor’s sympathy, and smile back at him, nodding. 

With that, the doctor opens the door and escorts you out, leaving you to the blonde man standing outside a few feet away. He turns and walks over to you, giving you a hand as you limp over to him. The first time you saw him, you never got a real chance to take in his face, but this time, as you look up, you can’t help but notice. One side of his face looks terribly deformed, like it was melted and then frozen in time. You can’t help but shudder at what could have caused such a mean looking scar.

Dwight notices you’re staring and chuckles, “So, you’re pretty special, huh?”

You’re taken off-guard from what he just said, but don’t get a chance to reply as he continues.

“Yea, the big man captures you, gets you fixed up, _and_ offers a complimentary stay? What did you do, kid?” He asks with a laugh, not expecting an answer.

Your mind is a big ball of knots, “You mean Negan? It’s not usually like this? What usually happens? What’s happening to me? When can I leave?”

Dwight sighs in annoyance and you suddenly shut your mouth, cringing at yourself. _Why are you so overbearing?_ You think angrily. 

“I don’t know, alright? I know you can’t leave though, no one does. It’s for the best sometimes. And yea, you should be grateful,” he stops in front of a specific door and stares at you with terrifying intensity, “It can be _much_ worse, kid.”

A frog develops in your throat at his words. He turns back away from you to bring out a ring of keys. He sorts through them with ease and shoves a single key into the doorknob. With a click, the door swings inward into a single bedroom. Dwight steps aside and lets you limp in. There’s a bed with sheets, a desk and side table with books, papers, and pencils, including a lamp. There’s a wardrobe and carpet, a chest with a lock and a coat hanger. You almost squeal in delight until you remember what circumstances you’re under to have this room. _I didn’t ask for this, why are they doing this?_

“Like it?” Dwight asks, folding his arms over his chest and smirking through his short, blonde beard and mustache.

You turn around to him after inspecting some drawers, “Y-yea, this is amazing, it’s like a hotel!”

He chuckles at that, “Yea, I guess it can seem that way after being out there for so long.”

“So…w-why are you guys giving this to me?” You ask, trying to sound stern so you’ll get an answer this time.

“You got something he wants. Nothing comes for free here, kid. I don’t know, your guess is as good as mine.” He mumbles, obviously not as concerned about this as you are.

With a sigh of frustration, you hear Dwight’s walkie-talkie beep as a familiar voice calls out from it.

“Be right there, get her some food, will ya?” Negan’s voice buzzes.

Dwight picks up his walkie and clicks in, “Sure thing,” he looks back at you, “What do you want?”

“Wha-“ You start.

“Food, we have all kinds, just name it.” He interrupts.

“O-oh,” You’re amazed, “that’s cool…uhm, are you sure?” You ask.

Dwight rolls his eyes but laughs, “Yea, s’almost dinner, what do ya like?”

You contemplate, your brain not being able to fathom this information.

“U-uhm, chicken strips?” You hope the request isn’t too extreme.

Dwight gives you a thumb up, “Stay here, be back in a minute.”

You nod slightly, feeling shy all of sudden as he takes your order to the kitchen, locking your door from the outside. _Now I definitely feel like a prisoner._ You think, realizing you can’t leave this room at all now.

Glancing around, you decide to try out the bed. You daintily sit down on it, making it creak softly. The blankets are thin but fuzzy, you run your hand over them, smiling in admiration. You grab the pillow as well, it’s a bit lumpy, but you can’t remember the last time you didn’t use your backpack as a headrest. Shock hits you like a glass of cold water as you remember; _where IS my backpack?!_ You start to look around, checking the closet, wardrobe, and chest. Nothing. Stress takes over your mind as you run your fingers through your hair.

_This isn’t fair_. You think, putting your hands on your hips. Your pockets feel lumpy, so you curiously shove a hand in one to pull out some forgotten lollipops.

“Oh yea!” You exclaim happily.

_At least we’re a little even now._ You think mischievously, unwrapping one and popping it in your mouth. You hum an old song you used to love and walk to the window, pulling the blinds back to get more sunlight into your room, feeling cramped. The setting sun dazzles your eyes as it streams in, the sky giving you warm, cozy feelings. You pace around the room and decide to find some good hiding spots to put your medical stash. Under your bed works, for now, you throw everything as far back as you can. _That’ll do_. You think, standing back up and sitting on the bed.

Your attention is drawn to the window as you see people walking around the complex outside. You also spot the walkers tied to the fence, and the people fighting to keep them in place. Your heart saddens for them as you watch their struggles. They look so tired and numb. You nearly forget that you’re waiting for Dwight as the door clicks open again, making you jump to your feet.

Your heart sinks to your stomach as Negan enters with a plate of food. You swallow heavily as he turns to you, smiling and putting the tray down on your desk.

“All better now, aren’t we?” He asks, eyeing you.

You can’t seem to hold eye contact with him again, but remember how he doesn’t like being ignored. You force words to form on your lips as you sit back down on the bed.

“Thanks.” Is all you can utter.

“Good shit!” He bellows, frightening you,“That’s what I like to fucking hear; _respect_. You learn fast, don’t’cha, baby girl?” he finishes with a soft whisper.

You're slightly uncomfortable with his compliments, you almost feel as if he’s talking to you like a dog, but you can’t help thinking he’s being genuine right now.

A huge grin crosses his face and he leans in, catching your attention. You notice his eyes looking at your lollipop in your mouth, and you’re suddenly hyper-aware of how awkward this must look. Negan reaches towards your face and you already know what’s about to happen. You try and turn your head but his other gloved hand catches your face. Holding you sternly in place, he grips the stick of the lollipop from your mouth and slowly pulls it out. As much as you hate this, you try and suck off all of your salivae so none will drip down your chin. _I think I’d die of embarrassment if that happened._ This results in a sharp popping sound as your lips release the candy. Chills run down your spine when you hear a soft, deep grunt coming from Negan. Your mind goes blank at what just happened, leaving you breathing erratically and blushing furiously out of humiliation. Negan chuckles, as if he could read your emotions perfectly. Your eyes shoot up when you hear him step away from you, and you see that he’s holding your lollipop, in his mouth. 

He leans against the desk, still watching you as you look up at him in disbelief. 

“Well? Tell me how your doctor’s appointment went.” Negan says nonchalantly.

You feel like someone is holding your throat closed. _How do I talk after what just happened?_ You think to yourself in dismay. Your blank eyes stare back at Negan as he patiently awaits your answer. His fingers tapping on the desk indicating that he’s slowly losing that patience. You swallow audibly and take a shaky breath.

“U-uh…” you stutter, trying to find your words, “Good?”

He tilts his head, waiting for more. You feel yourself getting even more flustered, your brain blanking out on you. _What is a normal thing to say about doctor appointments?!_ You think over and over in your head.

“I-I’m sorry, but..uhm…what is going to happen to me? I-I never asked for this nice room and food, a-and I never asked to live here.” You finally spill the big question to him.

You immediately regret asking such a sensitive topic right now as his face drops, becoming serious. Negan leans back and scratches his beard, studying you with his hard gaze and flipping the lolly around in his mouth. You definitely feel yourself shaking.

“This morning,” He rumbles, making you wince, “what’d I say this morning?”

You let your mouth drop open slightly, trying to remember the conversations you two had at the store, “U-uhm, you d-don’t like being ignored.” You state, very confident in your answer.

Negan’s expression stays stone cold, staring at you. Sweat drips down your back as you laugh nervously and look away, unsure of how to react to this situation. Suddenly, you hear Negan laugh and slap his knee, making you jump in surprise.

“You are _fuckin’_ adorable, y’know that?” He says with a grin.

You stare at him, not expecting that at all. As you take in his expression, you can tell he’s not done yet, and something is about to happen. Unexpectedly, he’s right in front of you. In the blink of an eye, he’s grabbed your entire chin in the palm of his hand tightly, jerking your head to be right in front of his own face. You let out a surprised squeak and immediately try to pull away, feeling awkward and uncomfortable at the closeness. Negan’s grip is firm though and you only accomplish hurting your neck muscles as you struggle. He takes out the candy and stares at you, swiping his tongue over his bottom lip.

“You’re fucking adorable, but that’s not the answer I was lookin’ for,” He growls into your face, “I said you belong to me, baby girl, I fucking own you and your shit.”

Your head is spinning as you somehow keep your eyes on his, which are only inches away. You feel the dominance radiating off of him, making you feel smaller than ever in his grip. It feels as if your entire body has given up on you, and you’re frozen in place. You try to say something, mouthing the word “What?” in confusion, but nothing comes out. He sees you trying to talk and watches your lips move.

He smirks and shakes his head, “You better be trying to say ‘yes, sir’ with those fucking lips, doll.”

_Wha- is this guy for real, right now?_ You think incredulously. For a second, calling him out on his weird gestures crosses your mind, but then you realize you wouldn’t dare offend him to his face. You can tell now, this man is a ticking time bomb, waiting for his next excuse to go off. You’re not sure how he’ll go off, but you don’t wish to see it happen, ever. _I can’t just say ‘yes’, though! That’d be so humiliating and terrifying!_ You scream at yourself, trying to figure out what to do.

You can see Negan’s eyes studying your facial features as tears start to develop out of frustration. The debate in your mind was becoming too loud, and you needed to let something out soon. The fact that he “doesn’t like to wait” for an answer is repeating over and over in your head as well, making it hard to focus on actually coming up with a response.

“Look at you go,” Negan suddenly whispers, letting go of your chin but still staying very close to your face.

You look directly at him, not realizing that your eyes had trailed off during the dispute in your mind.

He nods as he sees you looking at him, “Yea, I can see those little fucking machines working overtime right now, right in here,” he taps the top of your head, “What I need you to do, is get whatever the fuck you’re thinking of, out here, right now.”

His stern words are killing you, pushing you to the edge. The hot tears break from your eyes and roll down your cheeks.

“W-why are you doing this?” You splutter, covering your face with your hands quickly, in shame of your tears.

You feel Negan’s strong hands grab your wrists and throw them to the side, making you flinch away from him. He puts his arms on either side of you, fists digging into the bed. A sob breaks from you as you now feel trapped and powerless.

“You busted up an entire party of my men. Seriously injuring two of them in the process, _in my territory_ , might I add.” Negan whispers threateningly to you, “I take you in, give you medical attention, protection, shelter, _food_!”

He raises his voice for the last word, making you shrink even more beneath him. Negan laughs at your reaction, sliding his tongue slowly between his lips, taking in every aspect of your face. You feel like shoving a knife into his cocky grin, but you also feel like if you disappeared forever, that’d be fine too. You’re about to say something to calm him down before it gets out of hand, but he shushes you.

“Not even a _thank you_ , (y/n). Do you fucking realize how hard it is to have these things accessible in this world? I could have fucking killed you on the spot, doll, but I fucking didn’t. Yet all I see right now, is someone who _wants_ to be fuckin’ punished! Is that right, baby girl? D’you want to be punished? Is that what this is all about?” Negan is playing with your brain, his whispers getting into your way of thinking.

“I-I just...I-“ Your thoughts are spinning, “N-no, I don’t want that, that’s n-not it a-at all.”

“Well, then,” He says, “you know what to say, right?”

You swallow audibly, “Thank you…” you whisper.

“’Thank you’, what?” He demands relentlessly.

“Thank you, Negan.” You blurt out, cursing yourself.

Negan’s eyes glint with something you’ve never seen before, “I like that,” he mutters, “keep that up and we’ll get along just fine.”

You feel something pressing up against your lips, and look down to see it’s your lollipop. Negan pushes it past your slightly parted mouth onto your tongue. You nearly gag, not realizing what was happening until it was too late. You stiffly hold it in your mouth with tears running down your face.

He finally takes some steps back away from you, giving you space to breathe. Once you come to your senses, your cheeks flush with embarrassment and you wipe your eyes angrily. You can feel Negan’s gaze burning into you as you furiously clean your face and take out the candy.

“Now!” Negan barks, making you bolt upright, “We’ve passed the shitty ‘denial’ point, right? So, let’s talk future, doll.”

He sits down on the desk chair, facing you and putting his elbows on his knees to lean closer. You look up at him hesitantly, afraid of what he’s about to offer you now that you’ve basically sealed the deal, which infuriates you.

“You’re going to earn your keep here until I fucking change my mind, got it?” He tells you more than asks.

You furrow your eyebrows at him, wondering what the hell this means.

“We have a point system here, you work for me, earn points, use it buy shit, simple. Get out of line and there will be drawbacks.” He lowers his voice, “Of course, if you want to skip to the fun part, I don’t fucking mind at all, baby girl.”

You are beyond confused now, “What’s the fun part? Leaving?” you ask sarcastically.

He chuckles, “You know damn well that’s not it.” He slides a finger under your chin, looking at you fondly, “No work, no points, everything you could ever fuckin’ want, but you give me what I ask as one of my wives.”


	4. Chicken Waffles!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ay y'all thought I was dead, didn't'cha!?
> 
> Haha no I'm not giving up on this fic just yet hohoho no, I have A LOT in store for ya. I had a lot of writing assignments due the last couple of weeks so that's why I didn't do much fic writing. SO, here in this chapter, there are no warnings, so enjoy yourselves! Although the next chapter will have so much. So much...
> 
> Should be up this weekend!

Your mind is blank as you stare at the floor. _How has it escalated to this?_ You think to yourself. Negan is sitting on your desk chair in front of you, still watching you intently with a smirk on his face. Hesitantly, you look up at him, his dark eyes waiting for an answer.

“Y-you can’t be serious? Are you joking? I-I don’t like being made fun of…” Your voice trails off.

You think this might be one of those cruel jokes where a boy asks you out as a prank. Not because they actually want a date, but because their friends dared them to, like you’re an alien or something. _But, you don’t want him to actually want you in that way! Right?_

“Made fun of?” Negan asks, tilting his head and leaning in, “Baby doll, you’re fucking adorable, I would never lie to you about that.”

“You don’t even know me.” You snap at him, surprised with yourself.

He seems a bit surprised too, raising his eyebrows in mock shock and grinning, “Oh, got our big girl pants on now, don’t we?” you hear him chuckle darkly, “Thing is, darling, I don’t have to know you.”

You duck your head even further down, feeling your cheeks burn. You feel your palms getting clammy and your fingers start to shake. You can feel his gaze traveling up and down your cowering figure.

“I-I…don’t…” You can’t seem to spit the words out, knowing it’ll only make him upset.

You hear him shift in front of you, making your muscles tense. A gloved finger slips under your chin and tilts your head up. Your watery eyes meet his. He seems to be studying your face, and you know you look like a mess right now. The previous tears have made stray hairs stick to your flush cheeks. Your nose is probably running and your eyes are all puffy. A grin stretches across his face and you look away, flustered and confused.

“I guess we’ll take our time, wont we?” He whispers, “I’d love to fucking take you right now, right here. But I just can’t let you off that easy after what you’ve done to my men.”

It’s becoming so hard for you to breathe right now as you try and swallow the dryness from your mouth. _So he thinks that being his wife is some kind of prize? A privilege? And working for him is punishment? Backwards minded prick._ Your fuzzy brain scowls. His massive presence subsides as he takes a few steps back. Your dinner plate scrapes along the wooden desk as Negan slides it closer to you. After that, he walks towards your door.

Just as he’s about to leave, he turns to you one last time, “You’re gonna stay here until Dwight comes and gets you in the morning, got it?”

You stay silent, frozen in place. Negan just chuckles and slams the door, making you jerk. Tears start streaming down your face immediately after. Your hands comes up and cups your mouth to control the sobs trying to break out. You feel sick but there’s nothing in your stomach. The food on the plate looks disgusting now as you eye it angrily. You hiccup through your silent cries and eventually wipe your tears with your sleeves. _This can’t be happening, I have to get out ASAP._

Panic sets in as you run to the door and try to open it, only to come to the awareness that Negan locked it from the outside. The thought of him makes you nauseous as you lean against the door, replaying what just happened in your head. _Why me? Why would anyone want me as a wife, anyway?_ You think as your fingers slide through your hair in frustration.  
“I just gotta make a plan, that’s all. Make a plan, follow it, and get out. Simple.” You whisper encouragingly to yourself. 

Morning:

Last night, you had given in and ate a tiny bit of food, just to avoid passing out. The rest you had wrapped in a clean cloth you found and stored in your dresser for when you get your backpack back. 

As soon as the sun had cracked over the horizon, you were wide awake and ready to initiate your plan. You consider yourself at least a little smart, after all, you have survived this far. You had thrown your hair into a messy bun and put a flannel on along with some fitted pants and boots. The wound on your thigh felt a million times better, but the muscle was still sore. Limping over to the desk, you picked up the piece of paper you had scribbled on last night. It was your ticket out. 

After hours of plotting, you considered your options. The place you’re in is huge, and so far, everyone seems strangely loyal to Negan, which isn’t good. You have to be very vigilant as to not trust anyone just yet, at least not until you’ve had a proper feel of the place. Once you have a good mind map of the quickest way out and where guards are posted, your plan would be finished. For now, you decided it best to just start collecting supplies and trying to locate your stolen stuff.

A loud banging on your door jerked you out of your thoughts violently. A click indicated that your door had been unlocked, and Dwight’s face peeked in through the door frame.

“G’mornin’, first day on the job, huh?” He waltzes into your room, looking around as if he owns the place, “Getting’ cozy?”

You nod slightly, avoiding eye contact and fiddling with your fingers. You hear him sigh.

“Alright, well, let me show you to our showers so you can clean up.” Dwight smirks when your head shoots up,

“Showers?” You ask, astonished.

He nods, “Yup, running water and everything.”

“That’s amazing…” You mumble.

You hear a chuckle and Dwight gestures for you to follow him. You comply and trail behind him down the corridor of other bedrooms. Luckily your leg is not as painful as yesterday, so you can hide your limping pretty well. People are now waking up and walking around you, and you stare at them. They look normal, but you know something has to be up, this place gives bad vibes to you. At the end of the hallway is a large washroom, curtains separating each shower heads. Your stomach sinks as you see this.

“Like it? Why don’t you use it and then I’ll take you to breakfast?” Dwight says behind you as you stare into the washroom.

“U-uhm…” You’re trying to think of what to say.

You’d like to have a shower, yes, that’d be amazing. _But I don’t want anyone seeing me accidently…_

“Actually, you don’t really have a choice. Get cleaned up like the rest of us, alright?” He pats you on the back, “We’ll find some new clothes for you later too.”

You sigh, suddenly aware you’re still a prisoner. Nodding faintly, you walk slowly into the room. It’s humid and misty, and you can hear other girls chatting up a storm as they bathe. _Oh no, I’m invading their space, I shouldn’t be here, this is their washroom, they’re going to make fun of me!_ Every single sound and word in the washroom is very loud and sharp, making you wince. As your vision begins to blur at the sides from panic, you push yourself behind a curtain into an empty showering space. 

Once your chest stops heaving from the humidity and anxiety, you look around. There’s soap, shampoo, and even a towel in your space. All of your worries seem to evaporate with the warm water as you slide off your clothes, ready to shower for the first time in forever. You squeak the handle to “Hot”, and water bursts out of the head. You yelp at the sensation, goosebumps rising all over your skin. A contempt sigh escapes you as you’re practically transported to a new world full of warm water and sweet scents. 

You watch soap suds run down the drain as you finish, feeling ten pounds lighter, if that’s even possible. You use the towel to dry and slip your clothes back on. After wringing out your hair, you let it fall on your shoulders to dry. You pull the curtains back and are confronted with a woman’s face. You gasp and take a step back.

“S-sorry, you scared me, haha…” You try and play it cool, _maybe she’s friendly?_

The woman stairs at you, but not in an intimidating way. She’s studying you, and of course, you’re uncomfortable at the attention. You shuffle on your feet, awkwardly looking anywhere but at her. She notices and clears her throat, reaching out a hand.

“Sorry, I’m Sherry,” She says to you in a very calm tone, “You’re (y/n), right?”

You are a bit taken aback that she knows who you are, “Y-yea, uhm…nice to meet you.” You reply and take her hand, shaking it slightly.

You look at her more intently now that she’s introduced herself as an approachable person. She has shoulder length, chestnut brown hair and is relatively thin. She’s taller than you, but you don’t feel nervous. 

She smiles, although she seems distracted, “I’m happy I got to meet you. I can’t talk too much now though, but I hope I can see you again.”

You nod and smile back at her warmly, grateful for a normal human interaction. You watch her walk away as Dwight makes an appearance in the doorway. The two exchange a calculated glance, and you immediately pick up on something fishy between the two. All the same, you walk over to Dwight. His attention is on Sherry as she walks down the hallway, and you kindly wait for him to notice you’re next to him.

When he does notice you’re there, he flinches slightly, “Holy crap, you’re real fucking silent, you know that?”

You suppress a giggle, “S-sorry…”

He shakes his head but you can see a small smile, “Okay, cafeteria is this way.”

Dwight puts his hand on your shoulder to lead you ahead of him, which you find uncomfortable. You see a blur of faces before coming upon an open area. It reminds you of a school cafeteria almost. There are tables going all the way to the back of the large room, and there’s a line of people waiting for their food at the kitchen window. You gulp at the large mass, you didn’t realize civilizations like this were a thing anymore. Last time you had been around so many people was before the apocalypse. Since then, the largest group of people you’ve met were ten, maybe fifteen. It made you heart race at all the faces, and you were suddenly thankful to have taken a shower so no one could call you dirty from being outside for so long.

You hadn’t noticed you were standing still until you felt a shove on your shoulder. You glance back at Dwight and swallowed, wondering if you should say how you feel. Before you get a chance to make so much as a peep, a loud bell starts ringing and everyone suddenly gets up from their seats. Your eyes widen and you shrink back against Dwight as everyone moves towards the exit. The two of you stumble to the side to let everyone pass. 

“W-what’s going on?” You ask quietly, losing your voice in the rush.

“It’s just the meal bell, means everyone has to go to their duties now. We missed breakfast.” Dwight mumbles matter-of-factly.

You sigh as you realized it was probably your fault that you two missed breakfast because of your shower, “Sorry…”

You feel Dwight grabs your shoulder and walk in front of you as the last of the people leave, “S’not your fault, I let ya sleep in. Let’s hurry to the kitchen and see what they’ve got for you.”

“Wha-“ you’re about to ask why he let you sleep in when he starts walking briskly to the kitchen door.

You follow him in. Warm smells of eggs and sweet things hang in the air. Pots and pans are piled up on the counter, waiting to be washed, and people in aprons are running around. A taller man with a chef hat on walks over to Dwight.

“This the special order?” The chef asks, gesturing to you.

You’re surprised at what he called you, _special order? I thought I was late?_.

“Sure is!” A deep voice booms from behind you, making you flinch and whip around.

Negan is standing in the door way with a huge grin on his face as he stares directly at you. You gasp and back up, alarmed by the sudden appearance of the man who made you cry last night. 

“Very special,” He mumbles, still looking down at you as you cower between Dwight and the cook.

“Good, we got it right here, sir.” The chef nods and pics up a tray of chicken and waffles.

You glance over and almost squeal in delight, “Oh my god, _waffles_?”

The tall man hands the tray to you and you thank him profusely. 

“A-are you sure this is okay?” You half ask the chef, half ask Negan, glancing between the two.

You should’ve known that even giving the slightest attention to Negan would automatically mean that he would be the one to answer. He steps toward you and leans against the counter in front of you. 

“Of course it is, baby doll, it’s perfectly fine, because you know the deal we have, right?” Negan asks slyly, wanting you to acknowledge the conversation you two had last night.

You’re mind goes blank and reels back, you don’t want to say yes. Saying yes means that you’re agreeing to his weird deal, his rules, and his morals. From what you can tell, you don’t want that, you don’t wat any of it. _Just suck it up for now, we have a plan, remember? Fake it till you make it._ You think to yourself, swallowing your pride and giving a slight nod to Negan as you look at the floor.

“Good,” He whispers only for you to hear and turns around to leave, “I’ll be taking her with my group’s pick up today, Dwight. Bring her after breakfast.”

Dwight nods as he leaves. Your body is shaking at the thought that you have to be with him all day today. _I can barely handle one conversation with him!_ Dwight walks out of the kitchen and you follow him, thanking the chef once more before going. You two sit at an empty table, a few stragglers sit around you on tables farther away. You set the tray down in front of you and look at the food. Suddenly, your appetite is gone and the thought of eating makes you want to barf. 

“Come on,” Dwight eggs you on once he sees you make no attempts to eat.

You glance at him nervously. Shakily, you pick up the fork and slowly cut into a waffle. You know that your body needs it, you know that usually around this time your stomach would be growling for food. The waffle sticks to the inside of your cheeks and teeth, the lack of saliva making it hard to chew. It’s your nerves, you know it is. You know that your brain is not happy about having to see Negan once you’re done eating, so if you don’t eat, you won’t see him. Or at least, that’s your brain thinks it’ll happen. 

Eventually, you get through half the waffle and half of a piece of chicken. The rest is unbearable to think about eating it. You push the tray away and look up at Dwight, who has been silently observing the cafeteria this entire time. You quietly thank him in your head for not talking to you while you eat. 

“I-I’m done, sorry I didn’t eat it all…” You whisper.

Dwight glances over as you speak, “No problem, I know you’re probably dealing with a lot right now.”

You’re surprised at his kind response, expecting to be scorned for not finishing what’s on your plate. He takes you tray for you and gives it to the kitchen. Once he finished talking briefly with the chef, you two left the cafeteria. You let out a sigh of relief from leaving that place after what had happened. Although now, you prepare for the uphill climb you’re about to embark in as Dwight leads you to outside the Sanctuary.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also, check out my secret tumblr if ya like. It's NSFW so be careful babes, but it's mainly centered around Negan right now so idk, it could add to this story tbh. ;3c
> 
> Anyway, here it is: https://whoam-i-kidding.tumblr.com/ (it looks better on mobile, promise)


	5. Sing Me a Song (but with you)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Helloooo pretty people!
> 
> Okay so I am thinking two weeks is about the amount of time it takes to write a good chapter, at least while I'm in school/work. During breaks, which is coming soon ;3c, I will be able to upload like once a week again hells yea.
> 
> Well, hope you enjoy this chapter!! I literally used the episode Sing Me A Song heavily so it felt like you are actually on the Walking Dead timeline (show). I changed a lot of things, and I wasn't watching it, just using a script, so if something seems off, that's why. I didn't wan to just legit copy the script cause that would suck, so yea. I think that's about it, lemme know if you all like this? Cause I think the rest of the chapters will heavily follow the show's timeline so I can insert ourselves into cool, big events haha ;3c

“I have to make a quick stop first,” Dwight grunted as he suddenly stopped his brisk pace.

You nearly head-butted him in the back, “Oh, okay…”

He glances down at you and then down the hall, considering something in his head. As you watch his inner debate, he flicks his hand for you to follow him, and you obey. The new route you two were now on was a thinner corridor with pipes lining the walls. Big doors with locks on them lined the hallway as you came to an intersection of a long line of smaller doors. You could hear weird noises coming from all around you. Crying, sniffling, coughing, moans of destress, _what is happening?_ Dwight walks up to a silent cell. As he shoves a key into the hole, there is still nothing to be heard. Your anxiety rises as you prepare to see what’s in the room, as the sounds in neighboring ones are not pleasant. 

Dwight swings the door open into a very dark and windowless room. You try to peer inside from behind him, curiously wondering what’s so important that you had to make this detour. You see cold, cement walls and floors and smudges of different fluids and colors everywhere. Dwight whips his head around to you and smirks, stepping aside. You feel nervous stepping closer to the cell, as his evil grin looms over you.

“W-what is this-“ Your thought is cut off as the air in your throat gets stuck.

There’s a lump of clothes and knotted, brown hair curled up in the corner of the dark room. You hadn’t seen this person from your view before, and it startled you. The smell coming from him alarmed you as well. Tears stung your eyes as the person sitting on the floor slowly looked up, peering at you through his grimy bangs. Dwight shoved himself beside you and threw a small piece of food on the floor. You gasped quietly as the prisoner locked eyes with you, he looked so tired. 

“D-Dwight…wh-…this-…” You stumbled over your words as enraged thoughts buzzed through your mind.

You hear him chuckle, “This is what happens when you don’t follow the rules.”

Your ears feel like they’re bleeding, _did he seriously just laugh at this situation? And try to make it a learning lesson!?_ Your mouth is hanging open in shock as you register that all these cells probably are holding starving, dirty, and sick people.

“Y-You can’t do this! What h-have they done to deserve something l-like this!?” You shout, surprising yourself.

Dwight raises his eyebrows as if surprised by your outburst as well, “Did you not just hear me, kid?” He leans in closer to you with a menacing glare, “You really trying to tell me what I can and can’t do right now? After I just showed you what happens to bad girls?”

He gestures to the man in the cell, emphasizing on the word “girls” to insult him. You shrink back, looking at the floor. The nice Dwight you had known was nowhere to be found here, and it terrified you, suddenly making you painfully aware of how alone you are in this situation. Then you glance at the prisoner once more as he makes movement towards the food on the floor. You watch as he gradually eats it as if it’s steak and lobster. Dwight scoffs and closes the cell door, casting the poor man back into the shadows again and locking it from the outside. That’s when you realize that you’re not alone in this situation. He, and all the other prisoners here are just like you. Trapped by bad people, and you have to work together to get out. Of course, you can’t save them all. _But maybe just one…_ You think as Dwight leads you away.

The two of you finally make it to the outdoors. The sun dazzles your (e/c) eyes as you squint against it. Goosebumps raise on your skin as a chilly breeze makes its way through the forest around you. A smile plays at your lips from the senses of being outside again after being confined. You think back to that prisoner and can’t help but feel a stone in your heart for him, and the others too.

Your thoughts are interrupted by gunshots ring out through the sky, followed by shouting. Dwight jerks his head in the direction of the sounds and starts running over, dragging you by the wrist. Your thigh screeches in pain as you’re forced to run with this tall man’s long strides. You can almost just see the stitches breaking and bleeding down your leg, but you don’t have time to protest and check. Luckily, adrenalin kicks in as you near the gates, this eases the pain up a little. Once the two of you reach the crowd of people, you can clearly hear Negan’s voice, which is oddly calm. Another round of bullets fly and you can immediately spot the perpetrator as Dwight tackles them. Your hand covers your mouth as a see a young teenage boy in his grasp, a machine gun being disarmed from him. _What the hell is this kid doing!?_ The boy glares at Negan with his one good eye, who you were left to stand behind by Dwight. You’re surprised by how brave this kid is, you haven’t even seen him shed a single tear yet. You almost snicker when you see Negan holding some Savior in front of him so he wouldn’t get shot, but you also feel irritated that he would willingly sacrifice one of his own men for his life. As if being able to feel your presence, Negan turns his head around and sees you behind him, a wicked smile growing on his face. You can taste your breakfast again.

“Looks like there’s going to be a change in plans, sweetheart.” He whispers to you and turns the to the boy again, “Kid, I ain’t gonna lie…you scare the shit outta me!”

You swallow hard in nervousness as you watch the boy, hoping he doesn’t get hurt even though he did just open fire. He struggles in Dwight’s grip and doesn’t respond.

Negan sighs, “Dwight, back off. Is that any way to treat our new guest? Come on, kid, I’ll show you around.” He gives a snarky grin.

The boy continues to stare, you can almost feel the heat from his eye burning into Negan.

“Y’know, you do the same damn stink-eye as your dad, except it’s only half as good ‘cause…well, y’know…you’re missing an eye.” Negan teases.

You scrunch up your eyebrows in disgust at his hurtful jokes. Negan leaves his spot and walks over the boy, reaching out a hand to help him up. All the boy does is glare more, and you can’t blame him.

“Really? You're really not gonna take my hand? ‘Cause you’re lucky you even still _have_ a hand.” Negan turns to the fence of walkers, “Same as your boy Daryl over here, now that I think about it.”

You whip your head to the fence where Negan is looking and spot the prisoner you had just met with. You realize now that all the ‘workers’ in the fenced area are prisoners. You feel sick as the man pressed up against the fence, watching this all unfold. You put two and two together and see that the prisoner and the boy know each other, vile starts to burn at the back of your throat. _This is a bad place._

“How’s the job going, Daryl? Hot enough for you? Yeah, it’d be tough with one arm.” You hear Negan chuckle when Daryl walks away, helplessly.

The boy finally obeys and gets up next to Negan, who smiles down at him and then shoots a glance towards you.

“Smart kid, now come with me.” Negan continues to lock eyes with you as he talks to the group, “Dwighty boy, why don’t you grab Daryl, take him to the kitchen, do a little grub prep.”

As he nears you, he wraps an arm around your shoulder easily and pulls you into his side, “New plan, boys. Let’s burn the dead, unload the truck later. Damn, I’m not gonna have any time to screw any of my wives today.”

Your heart drops to your stomach as his booming voice rings in your ears. The things he’s saying disturbed you, making you dizzy, especially with him so close to you. You can feel the vibrations of his voice in his chest, and every move he makes. You just stand there like a limp doll, unsure of what to do, too scared to move anyway. You glance at the one-eyed boy to see how he’s doing. To your surprise, he seems fine, still defiant even. You admire that and decide to help him get out of this place safely. _Maybe, if I help him, he’ll go back to his people and they can help me too…_

As the three of you start to walk off, Negan suddenly stops and turns to Dwight who is still where he tackled the boy, “I mean, maybe one.”

And with that, he smiles and turns back to us, walking away. You glance at Dwight with concern and see that that meant something to him as his gaze seems troubled. _There is more going on here than I could’ve ever imagined._

As the three of you make it into the Sanctuary again, you keep giving nervous glances to the boy next to you. You two had lagged behind Negan, and were walking side by side. You hoped that the boy could sense you’re not one of them, but you had to make it clear somehow. Fortunately, before you could make any advances, the boy spoke up.

“What are you gonna do to me?” He snapped at Negan, becoming impatient with the man’s mind games.

Your eyes drag themselves over Negan’s back, waiting for an answer. You three come up to a door, which Negan has everyone walk through, and closes it.

“Number one,” Negan starts, “You’re badass. You’re not scared of shit. Don’t be scared of me. It’s a disappointment, Number two…you really want me to ruin the surprise?”

Negan glances at the boy, who in return glares at him, “Screw you, kid. Seriously. Screw you.”

Your face begins to turn red at the way Negan is talking to this young teen. He has obviously done something terrible to him or his group, or both, to make the boy hate him so badly. You find yourself cheering on the sidelines in your head whenever the boy defies Negan. 

Suddenly Negan turns to you and smiles, “As for you, I haven’t even gotten a hello.”

You gulp audibly and cringe, realizing it’s your turn to be picked on by the big bad wolf. You can feel the boy’s gaze on you for the first time, and you want to shrink into a hole away from all the attention. 

“S-sorry.” Is all you can mutter, hating yourself for it but you just need these eyes off of you.

Negan grins and laughs softly, bringing a hand up to your cheek and brushing a loose strand of hair from your face. The tenderness of the gesture nearly makes you melt, your whole body shaking from the contact.

“That’s alright, baby girl. Just remember next time.” He says softly to you and winks, making your cheeks burn.

The embarrassment you’re feeling right now is out of control. You know that the boy just watched every single second of that. You can only hope that he understands you’re not here willingly and are just like him, except you’re very bad at communicating how you really feel.

“Check this out,” Negan says as he steps away from you and walks into a large room. 

You and the boy follow him across a bridge in the room that’s elevated above an even bigger crowd. Your eyes widen as they all simultaneously kneel on one knee. You and the boy exchange a surprised look, equally terrified and confused. Negan walks between the two of you and faces the crowd.

“The Saviors have gone out into the world and fought the dead and come back with some really good stuff. Some of that stuff can be yours if you work hard and play by the rules.” Negan bellows over the crowd.

The word “rules” rings in your head, launching back to Daryl, the poor prisoner. These rules must mean a lot to these people, or maybe they just mean a lot to Negan. 

“Today, everybody gets fresh vegetables at dinner, no points needed.” He finishes and turns to the two of you as the crowd erupts with applause.

The smile on his face is so smug, it hurts you physically. You can’t help but be in awe as you look at the crowd, though.

“You see that? Respect. Cool, huh?” He stands still a few seconds more, watching you and the boy, “They still on their knees?”

You glance at the crowd again and they are, in fact, on their knees.

Your nervous gaze must’ve answered Negan’s question as he shouts, “As you were!” and everyone gets up to continue on with their day. 

You and the boy look at each other once more before Negan passes between your secret communication. He stops in front of you, which makes your heart stop as you glance up. He’s looking down at you, not with eye contact, he’s just looking at you as a whole; almost predatory-like. You swallow nervously and see him run his tongue over his bottom lip before leaning closer to you.

“I want you to pay close attention to this next part, (y/n).” Negan whispers close to your ear, you can feel his hot breath in the shell of it.

Goosebumps run along your skin once he pulls away, thoroughly frozen in place. The fact that he said your name instead of the pet ones he usually uses makes you shake nervously. He chuckles quietly and starts to walk off, assuming you two are following. Your heart thumps loudly in your ears as you walk behind Negan. He takes you all down some more hallways and through some more doors. As you trail behind, you glance over to the boy, ready to end the awkwardness.

“H-Hey…” You whisper as quietly as possible.

The boy looks over at you with a stern stare, it almost frightens you back to silently walking. 

After a few heartbeats, you muster up some strength again, “I-I’m (y/n). What’s your name?”

The boy glances at Negan, then back at you, studying the situation, “…Carl.” He whispers.

You smile warmly at him and nod, hoping he gets the message that you’re a good person and not a Savior. Carl just awkwardly nods back and continues walking. You wish that you could’ve told him you wanted to help him, but you also didn’t want to catch Negan’s attention. Finally, your small group comes upon a door to which Negan swings open, walking in first.

You and Carl exchange a look and he goes in next. As you enter close behind him, the smell of perfume and nail polish chokes you. _What the hell?_ You think. You hadn’t smelled chemicals like that since before the apocalypse, it nearly made your eyes water.

“Ladies,” Negan calls out in greeting to all the women sitting around, “Don’t mind the kid.”

Your eyes shoot open at the luxury items held in this room. There’s a bar, plush couches and rugs, fine glass, and multiple women of different ages in nice dresses. Your mouth drops open when you see they’re even wearing makeup and have their hair done nicely. _Have I gone back in time?_ You think incredulously. You look over to Carl to see how he’s handling this, and to your surprise, he only looks a little overwhelmed by this. _Face of stone, this kid._ You praise him.

Negan notices Carl as well, “I know,” he starts, “every woman where you’re from dresses like they do the books at an auto shop. You’re gonna want to look at their titties.”

You shoot a glance over at him at his words, not having heard him talk like that before. _Well, except for a few minutes ago…_ You almost feel secondhand-violation for the ladies in the room as you realize these are Negan’s wives. Your nose scrunches up in disgust, at how backward this is. You want to yell and tear this entire place apart. Rage burns inside you as a cool hand places itself under your chin, shocking you back into reality. 

“You’re shaking, baby girl.” Negan whispers to you, holding your face up so you can’t look away, “What’s the matter, huh?”

The grin on his lips proves that he knows exactly what’s bothering you, and you furrow your eyebrows, “Get off me.” You growl and push his hand away from your face.

Your expression changes immediately after the quiet exchange as the hand you slapped away instantly darts right back up, clamping around your throat this time. A strangled squeal escapes your lips, but it’s not loud enough to catch anyone’s attention as Negan’s large figure blocks the scene. He’s staring down at you with terrifying intensity, his eyes darker than usual. You struggle beneath him, clawing at his strong hand around your neck. The grip is just loose enough to where you can still breath, but it’s very difficult. Negan leans in so close to your face that you can feel his breath on your lips as you struggle to get air.

“We don’t do that around here, sweetheart. That’s just not how things go. I ask you a question, and you answer. No need for hostility.” Negan mutters.

You start to see black spots as a tear escapes from your eyes, “P-please…” is all you can gasp.

Negan releases his grip on you and you take a deep, scratchy breath in, trying to hold your coughing back. He cups your face in his palm, wiping away the tear from your cheek with his thumb.

“I just need you to understand your place here, baby girl.” Negan studies your face, “…It’s hard to hold myself back around you, though…” the last part is barely audible, but you catch it.

With that, Negan lets you go and turns to one of his wives. You recognize her immediately as Sherry from when you had just finished in the showers. You remember the tension between her and Dwight, and you realize that she must have had something with Dwight before she married Negan. You furrow your eyebrows, _love triangle?_

“Can I talk to you for a minute, dear wife?” Negan more tells than asks, “Make yourselves at home.” He tells you and Carl.

You wipe your eyes and look over to Carl, who’s staring at you from his seat. He can most definitely see you shaking, and gestures for you to sit next to him on the love chair. You smile gratefully, trying to hide how shaken up you were from nearly passing out. You start to walk but are struck with pain from your thigh as the adrenalin has worn off, and you were now thoroughly exhausted. You hiss and continue to limp over. Carl sees your discomfort and immediately gets up and helps you over. You shake your head for him to stay where he is, but he silently insists on helping you walk. The two of you sit down together, sides touching, and you sigh in content.

“Thank you…” You mumble to Carl.

He glances over with the first, genuine smile you’ve seen from him, “No problem. Uhm…what happened to your leg?”

You’re surprised by his engagement in the conversation, “Oh! Uhm…heh, funny story actually.”

You glance over to where Negan is talking to Sherry to make sure he isn’t listening, “Well, I’ve been mostly by myself since this whole thing started, so I was camping in an abandoned store for the night, until I made the mistake of running into these knuckleheads.”

You say “knuckleheads” to try and make this messed up situation this poor kid is in seem lighter. Carl smiles at that and lets you continue.

“So, they started chasing me, and I ran up these old wooden stairs that caved in, so it gave me a bad gash on my thigh. But, long story short, I kicked their butts.” You finish, jutting your head up and chin out as if you were Superman.

Carl snickers softly, “That’s pretty awesome, how’d you end up here then?”

You sigh and slouch again, “Ah, yeah, that part…” you awkwardly fiddle with your fingers, “I don’t know really…actually…I do…but…”

You look up at Carl, you're about to confess to this modest kid, he doesn’t need this. _But I need someone to talk to._ You think sadly.

“I don’t want to accept it…” You choke out.

Carl suddenly understands as you look around the room nervously at the wives, cowering as Negan has continued to another girl named Amber, who looks far too young to be here.

“I-I’m…sorry…” Carl whispers to you.

You look back at him and smile, “Haha, well, it’s not anything you should worry yourself with. But thank you.” You furrow your eyebrows as you think, “How come you came here? Willingly? With a machine gun, too!”

Carl tries to hide his smug grin, “I snuck in, I’m not supposed to be here.” Suddenly his young face turns very grim, “He’s killed so many of our people, and now we’re all prisoners to him. In our own homes.” 

You frown softly, “Oh my god, I’m so sorry, Carl.” You put a hand on his back comfortingly.

You had no idea it was this bad. Negan’s tyranny stretches even farther beyond his fences, into other communities. Your heart broke into two now that you see, Carl was just trying to save his family and friends.

“You’re very brave, Carl. I don’t think I could do what you just did out there. Although, I’m sure your people would rather have you alive, don’t you think?” You pry at him.

He looks down and away, but doesn’t get a chance to say anything before you both become quickly aware of what’s happening outside your little talk. 

“You want to go back to Mark and your mom? Hell, I’ll put you all on the same job.” Negan seems to be threatening the poor, young girl you had seen before.

“No.” The quivering girl chokes out, “I-I’ll stay, I’m-I’m sorry.”

“You know what that means, right?” Negan says with a smirk.

“Y-yes…” The girl hiccups, trying to be strong, “I love you, Negan.”

Your blood runs cold.

“Oh, of course you do, darlin’. I don’t know why you’re crying.” Negan sadistically chuckles, “It’s all gonna work out aces for you!”

He then turns to Dwight, “Dwighty boy, fire up the furnace. Time for a little déjà vu.” 

You and Carl stand stiffly as Negan walks by, out of the room. You feel Carl look over at you, but you don’t return the exchange for once. You’re too sick, this whole thing makes you sick. Your skin is crawling from even being in the room. Quickly, you look down and walk out, not being able to stand it anymore. You can hear Carl’s footsteps trying to catch up with you. His arm coming around your waist to help you walk.

As the three of you walked to another room, Carl eventually caught up to Negan once you could walk on your own. As he did, you could almost feel the frustration radiating off of the young boy. 

“Are all of those women actually your wives?” Carl asks.

“Yeah, always wanted to screw a whole bunch of different women.” Negan glances over his shoulder to you, “I mean, why settle for one? Why follow the same old rules? Why not make life better?”

You’re trying to distract yourself from what feels like eavesdropping in on their conversation, even though you’re part of the group. You couldn’t believe the words he was saying to Carl. _Don’t listen to him, he’s a bad influence._ You think angrily. Although, you can’t help but feel hurt, or even betrayed. The fact that you were reacting this way to how Negan acted angered you. You don’t want him to be the cause of your frustration, or any emotion at that. There was just something, very small, deep inside you that felt like crying every time he mentioned another woman. You’re now in a large room that looks to be like Negan’s office. 

“Speaking of; sit.” Negan orders.

He sits down on a sofa, inviting you and Carl to sit as well. Carl sits on the opposite couch facing Negan, and you go to sit next to him until you hear Negan click his tongue in disapproval. You glance over at him and he’s wagging his finger “no”, then pats the cushion next to himself. You swallow hard and stiffly limp over to him, too tired to make any kind of protest. Negan smiles wide as you plop down awkwardly because of your sore leg.

His hand brushes over your thigh, a bit too close to the inside for your liking, “My poor baby, we’ll get that fixed up real soon.” He whispers to you.

You slouch and look at the floor, cheeks burning. Your thigh felt electrified where his fingers touched, and it made you uncomfortable. At the same time, though, you felt cold and lonely when his hand left. Negan shifts to lean forward on his elbows towards Carl.

“Let’s get started,” Negan says, eyeing Carl curiously.

“Started on what?” Carl asks, scrunching his nose with irritation.

Negan chuckles, “I want to get to know you a little better, Carl.”

You can feel your stomach turning itself into knots at what that might mean. You remember your self-made promise to protect the boy from harm, and ready yourself.

“Why?” Carl asks, genuinely confused.

“Work it out, you’re smart.” Negan huffs, leaning back as if to let Carl have time to think, “In fact, I’m gonna tell you just how smart you are, in case you don’t already know.”

Carl opens his mouth as if to say something, then closes it when he realizes Negan won’t let him interrupt.

“See, I’d expect a kid your age to be moping around, not doing a damn thing, except crying about missing the prom. But you,” Negan starts, looking far more interested now, “you go on a mission. You find me, you kill two of my men, and you’re smart enough to know that I’m not gonna let this slide.” He ends on a dark note.

You and Carl exchange a worried look, knowing that something bad must be coming. Your hands feel slick with sweat and your head is light and dizzy.

You both turn back to Negan when he starts laughing, “It’s like talking to a birthday present, you got to take that crap off your face. I want to see what grandma got me.”

You gasp quietly and look back at Carl, whose eye was now wide with worry, “No.” he barks sternly.

“Two men!” Negan quickly snaps back at him, making you both flinch away, “Two men. Punishment. Do you really want to piss me off?”

You feel tears stinging your eyes as the tension in the room rises, but you don’t want Carl to see you cry. You feel like you have to be strong for him. _Do it, for him._ You think harshly to yourself as you take a deep breath.

“You can’t do this.” You blurt out in the firmest tone you’ve ever heard from yourself. 

It feels like everything is frozen in time. Everyone’s stopped moving and breathing. Carl’s frozen in place, glancing at you and Negan, who starts to turn to you slowly. You feel like you need to explain yourself.

“L-listen to what you’re doing! He’s a just kid! A kid growing up in the apocalypse, for that matter. Take it easy on him, because it seems like his people are taking it easy on you.” You say in one breath, feeling like passing out at the end.

Your chest is rising and falling rapidly as you try to stay calm and collected under this menacing man, starring at you from only inches away. That’s all he does, is glare you down with a straight face, and you can sense yourself starting to fall apart. The minute you suddenly break eye contact with him, he chuckles slowly. 

“Honey, you don’t know what you’re talking about. His people, you’re gonna talk about _his_ people? Okay,” Negan turns himself on the couch to face you better, “His people killed my people while they were sleeping. Hm? Call that taking it easy? Now we all work together, like one big happy family. I think, I’m taking it pretty fucking easy!” He finishes loudly, aiming the end towards Carl, who looks away.

“Now take off that damn bandage!” He barks at Carl, who shrinks back and slowly reaches for his head.

You look up at Carl, gasping slightly as he complies to Negan’s commands. You whisper “no” but it’s not audible in the slightest. When the bandage drops, you cover your mouth and look away, feeling like you’re violating the boy’s privacy. His eye socket is completely hollow and fleshy looking.

“Christ!” Negan bellows excitedly, “That is disgusting. No wonder you cover that up, have you seen it? I mean, have you looked in the mirror? That is gross as hell.”

Your heart breaks when you see Carl shaking in his seat, on the verge of tears. The comments that Negan is making are no better, you look at him with dismay, tears pooling in your eyes as well. It angered you so much that you could feel your fingers itching to do something about it. Everything was boiling up inside of you and you couldn’t contain it anymore. You stood up so fast, both Carl and Negan flinched away from you. Your fists were tight and held against your side as you kept your furious gaze to the floor.

“I can’t believe you made him do that! I can’t believe what I’m watching unfold right in front of me! This is ridiculous, this is disrespectful, this is immoral! I can’t just sit here…” Your sharp rant fades as Negan stands up beside you, gripping your upper right arm tightly. 

You squeal in shock as he drags you to the door of his office, “Let go of me! You’re a psycho! Let GO!” suddenly, volume was no longer an issue for you.

You scratch at his hand to pry him off but to no avail. The door swings open from someone waiting outside. Negan shoves you out of his office and leans down to quickly catch your eyes before you are taken away.

“I can’t have you throwing a temper tantrum every time something doesn’t go your way, especially when I have guests over! I was even being nice, gave you a whole tour of this goddam place! I’ll deal with you later, once this matter,” He gestures to Carl behind him, “is dealt with.”

With that, he looks up at whoever has now taken hold of you and slams the door. Before it completely shuts, you get one last glance at Carl, who looks worried about you. Your heart hurts as you see him mouth a word to you. _No, not a word…a name._ “Daryl”, is what you deciphered. The person holding onto you started dragging you along to your room. Your memory flew back to that morning with Dwight and the cells. Daryl was the name of one of the cellmates, and you assumed Dwight was his to take “care” of. Your eyebrows scrunched up when you thought of the dreadful conditions those prisoners had to endure. _I need to help Darryl, it’s the least I can do for being so weak back there with Carl._ You thought with determination.


	6. He's Back and Bloody

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ah, sorry for such a long break guys! Had finals and I got really sick last week. xvx
> 
> But I'm back now and have a new chapter! I hope you all are pleased with what happens in this one, I know I am lmao >w>;
> 
> Not too many warnings in this one, there is some slight man handling done to the reader, but there's no blood drawn, just bruises.
> 
> I always except helpful criticism to help make the story better for everyone! See everybody next time! c:

“Assholes,” You spit under your breath as your door locks from the outside.

You had just been thrown back into your room by a Savior after Negan lost his temper with you. Carl was still with him, which worried you, but you figured the kid would be able to take care of himself from now on. The problem you were facing now, was how you were going to help Daryl escape from his cell. Your room is locked form the outside and you have no idea how you’re going to get the cell keys from Dwight. A storm starts to brew in your head. 

Plopping onto your desk chair, you pull out some paper and begin to scribble out some ideas. You were much better at visual, hands-on planning than coming up with stuff in your head. Too many thoughts in the way.

You knew that Daryl needs the key, and maybe something to help light the way while he escaped. You thought about giving him a weapon as well, but considering you yourself can’t get your hands on one, you’ll pass. A key and match it is. After brainstorming a plan, you grab a fresh piece of paper.

Loud noises break your attention from your ramblings. Glancing up and out of your window, you see a large group of Saviors gathering around some trucks. You spot Carl and Negan immediately, although it’s kind of hard not to. The two climb into what you remember to be Negan’s truck, and their engines rev. You gasp slightly, _they’re leaving!_ This is the only chance Daryl will have to escape without Negan being here, and the only chance you’ll have to sneak around. 

On the new paper, you wrote in big letters, “GO NOW” to emphasize that this is the time to act and escape. You slip off your boots so your footsteps wouldn’t make any noise. Putting a single match and the folded paper away in your pocket, you walk up to your door. You inspect it thoroughly, trying to see any flaws in its design. _There’s no way I could just break it open, they’d get me in no time…_ That’s when a thought popped into your head. There has to be someone standing guard outside, right? You knock hesitantly on your door.

You wait, no answer.

You knock again, louder, “Hello?”

After a few long heartbeats, you hear shuffling outside your door, “What?”

Your heart leaps, “U-uhm…can I use the restroom?” You ask as innocently as possible.

A heavy sigh and the jingle of keys can be heard from the other side. You smile to yourself and wait for your door to be opened. As it is, you’re greeted by a face you haven’t met before. 

“Well, come on then! I don’t have all day!” The man shouts at you.

You swallow hard and walk out, following him from behind. The two of you make your way to the restrooms and you slip inside awkwardly. He waits outside respectfully, and you wonder how you’ll get past him now. You check for a back door or something, but nothing. You sigh in frustration and start to think this was all a bad idea. Then, you hear a toilet flush and see a girl walk out. You smirk and follow her out closely, making sure you’re on the side of her that will block you from your guard’s vision. 

“Yes…!” You whisper as you hide behind a corner after escaping.

 _Maybe I can escape too?_ You think nervously. Shaking the scary thought away, you now set off to find Dwight down the halls. Lucky for you, most of the halls are pretty much empty, so it’s easy to sneak around. _They must all be with Negan._ You think, rolling your eyes at their blind loyalty. The sound of keys clanking against each other catches your attention. You pinpoint the sound coming from around the corner. _Perfect…_ You rush to the corner and wait for the shadow to grow bigger. As it does, you shove yourself out directly into the path of Dwight as he rounds the hall. The two of you slam into one another.

“Gah, what the hell?” Dwight huffs as you nearly nock the wind out of him.

You step back and rub your head, not meaning to run into his chest that hard, “Ah…s-sorry.”

Dwight gives you a stern look, “What are you doing out? Isn’t Negan gone? You should be in your room while he’s not here.”

Your jaw drops open in mock offense, “W-what? I can’t walk around w-without him being here? That sounds ridiculous. H-He already gave me a tour of the place himself!” You flail your arms dramatically.

Dwight narrows his gaze at you, “I’m not sure I can trust you, (y/n).”

You feel your blood running cold, _I can never guess what mood he’ll be in. Nice? Or Mean? I guess he’s mean right now._ You roll your eyes, trying to act cool.

“I was h-heading back anyway, my ‘bodyguard’ said I-I could be out here for a few minutes anyway…” You mumble.

Dwight sighs and shrugs, “Whatever, I’m not in charge of you right now so I guess if something happens to you; not my fault.”

You feel victorious as Dwight shoves his way past you and continues down the hall. You wait until he’s officially out of ear shot before taking out his ring of keys from your pocket. _Glad I haven’t lost my pick-pocketing skills yet!_ You chuckle to yourself and walk hurriedly to the cells. Once there, you quickly find the correct key to Daryl’s cell, but don’t open it. You want him to leave on his own time, and you also don’t want to see him again…social anxiety and what not.

You fold the note around the key with the match and slide it quickly under his cell’s door. Looking around briefly, you scurry away from the scene and hope Daryl makes it out successfully.

Later~

Night has fallen by the time you get back to your room. You had decided to see if you could find your backpack while out and about. After a few close calls, you felt exhausted and decided you’d save your efforts for another day. You sit on your bed and wait for the Savior keeping track of you to come back. When he does, it’s a little scarier than you had anticipated.

The man runs up to your room, panting, “What the hell, how the fuck did you get back here before me!?”

“U-uhm, s-sorry I-“ You try and answer him, but your nerves are making you stutter too much.

“No, y’know what? I don’t care. I bet you were trying to escape weren’t ya?” He walks into your room, “Thought you could pull a quick one on me? The nice guy? Letting you go to the bathroom when I could have very well made you piss your pants in here!”

You’re dumbfounded at how quickly this situation was escalating, _these people are insane! He won’t even let me explain!_

“N-No! I was j-just there and th-then-“ The man interrupts you again by grabbing your chin roughly.

His stern grasp makes you gasp in pain, “Yea, I bet you stole some stuff from us, didn’t ya? Think I’m an idiot, huh? Think that would go unnoticed under my nose?”

Tears start to form in your eyes and you try to shake your head ‘no’.

“Bullshit!” He yells in your face and shoves you away from him roughly, “Show me what you took, right now, or we’re going to have some serious problems here, girlie.”

You breathe heavily and hold your face where his fingers were, “I-I swear I didn’t t-take anything, please…!”

You shout the last part as he grabs your wrist and yanks you off your bed. The wind is knocked out of you as he slams you into a wall. His face is dangerously close to yours. Your lungs are dying as you hold your breath, not even daring to breathe this close to him. His gaze grazes your body, and you feel yourself wriggling beneath it uncomfortably. The way he’s holding you and watching you is disgusting, it’s making you want to vomit and cry at the same time. You suddenly wish Negan was here to control his men, and you remember how when Negan stared at you like this it was so different. You actually would prefer it him then this guy in front of you right now. The tears start to slip from your eyes and the man suddenly lets you go. You gasp and cover your mouth, trying to keep your frightened sobs from breaking out.

“Give me our supplies back, ask for my forgiveness, and I might let this slide.” He mumbles, still staring at you like an animal.

Your stomach feels like it’s on fire as his words burn your ears. You tried to think of what you could say to make him believe you, then you remembered something. _I don’t have to make him believe me!_ Quickly, you lunge under your bed and pull out the medical supplies you had snuck from Dr. Carson’s office the other day. You stumble back to your feet and hand the man the supplies clumsily.

“H-here…!” You choke out, wanting this to be over already.

The man smiles and takes the supplies roughly, “Good girl. Wow, so obedient.” You cringe at his words, “Now, beg for my forgiveness.”

You look up at him with disbelief, “W-what…?”

“You heard me,” He snarls, throwing the supplies on the floor like they never actually meant anything to him, “Beg.” 

You can’t hold your tears back anymore as they start streaming down your face, “I-I…I don’t…w-want to b-beg…” 

“Now!” He shouts at you and grips the back of your head by your hair.

He yanks your head back so you’re forced to look at him.

You gasp in pain and start to mumble, “I-I’m s-s-sorry…!”

“Awww, c’mon, you can do better than that. I could have sent you to the cells for this little stunt you pulled, y’know?” He chuckles.

You swallow hard in his grip. Your pride is too strong, you definitely do not want to cave into this man’s sick game and start begging. It’s an awful thought and you can’t get out of your head. No matter how much the Savior yells at you and tightens his grip on your hair. No matter how much he looks at your body. No matter how much he starts to touch you, and he does. You can feel his fingertips tracing your throat and shoulders. Wherever he touches you feels numb, like it’s been cut away and there are no nerves to feel. The opposite, you think, of when Negan touched you. His touch was like fire. It would send electricity through your body. It made your mind fuzzy and incoherent. _Why was this any different?_ All the same, you just can’t do it. You just can’t give into him. Every fiber of your being is protesting your unavoidable submission. Just as you feel him about to say another snarky remark, you hear a whistle.

You know that whistle.

You both know that whistle. The Savior suddenly freezes in his position, and you can almost see the blood drain from his face. The scene almost makes you smile, laugh even. _Now you’re gonna get it. Asshole._ You think angrily. A sigh of relief escapes your lips as the man lets your hair go quickly and steps away from you. You reach to the back of your head and gently touch it, hissing at the pain throbbing throughout the area. The Savior is now on one knee, and you glance down at him in surprise, _such blind loyalty!_ But you can’t help but feel relieved by their loyalty at the moment.

Finally, Negan is standing at your door entrance. You glance up at him, almost pleased to see him until you see Lucille resting on his shoulder. A shudder runs down your spine as you see blood splattered along his face. You also noticed that he had somehow shaved his beard clean from when you saw him earlier that morning. All of these elements brought you back to your state of fear and nervousness. You brought your hands together in front of you to fiddle with your fingers, and you glance down, avoiding eye contact with Negan.

A long, impressed whistle rings through the room, “Damn, darlin’. You did all this?”

You know he’s talking to you and you look up nervously, “U-Uh…sorry…” you whisper quietly while looking back down.

You hear him chuckle deeply, “Oh man! I just can’t catch a fucking break today, can I?”

You swallow the frog in your throat as Negan steps into your room slowly. He stops in front of the man that had been hurting you.

“Get the hell up, Joe.” Negan mumbles to the man kneeling before him.

Joe complies and quickly stands up, obviously having a hard time keeping his eyes leveled with Negan’s.

Negan smiles and studies him, “Well, look at that. You know you’ve done something wrong here, Joe.” He pats the man’s shoulder which quickly turns into a menacing grip, “Why don’t ya tell me…exactly…what you did wrong.”

Joe takes a shaky breath in and glances over at you, who is still shaking on the sidelines, “No no no. Don’t you dare look at her, you keep your eyes on me.” Negan says in a quiet, unnerving tone.

“I was getting our stolen medical supplies back, sir,” Joe states in a calm manner.

Negan immediately shoves him so hard that he slams into your desk, nearly falling over but he catches himself on your chair.

“I asked you to tell me what you did wrong, Joe.” Negan growls, walking closer to him.

You whimper and take a few steps away from the situation, the violence setting off your nerves. Negan is quick to notice and glances over to you.

“This’ll be over quickly, baby girl.” His gentle tone contrasts his violent movements on Joe so harshly that you almost feel whiplash.

Joe starts to stammer about his wrong doings, “I-I’m sorry, sir, she tricked me into taking her to the bathroom and snuck away-“

“Well that’s your fault for letting her go, now isn’t it?” Negan cuts him off, clearly becoming more and more frustrated.

Joe looks taken aback and scared for his life, “I-I swear it wasn’t on purpose…! I-I don’t know how she got away, I was standing in the doorway!”

Negan starts to become impatient with the man as he taps Lucille on your desk, “What did you do wrong, Joe.” He says more than asks this time.

The quivering man swallows hard and takes a breath in, “I-I…I grabbed her, sir.”

A silence envelopes the room as the two men seem to be competing in a staring contest. It’s so quiet, your own heartbeat is too loud for your liking. Finally, Negan suddenly grabs the man by his shirt and drags him out of your room.

“Oh, you didn’t just grab her though, did you?” Negan shouts angrily at him as he slams your door from the outside.

You’re left to yourself and your bruises as they have it out on the other side. You don’t know what to do with yourself. The wall at your back helps you stay standing up, as your legs feel like they’re about to buckle. You don’t dare move from your spot though, as an intrusive thought tells you Negan will be even more mad if you’re not exactly the way he left you. You bring your shaking hands up to your chest for comfort, and you can see a slight bruise forming on the wrist Joe had grabbed. Your buzzing head is disgusted that that man left had mark on you. You don’t have much time to think more on the situation as your door clicks open again.

Your breath gets caught in your throat as Negan appears through the doorway. He closes your door behind him quietly, and his entire presence seems a bit more subdued than usual. It’s almost nice to not feel so small with him in a room. His eyes are glued to the floor as he approaches you within two steps. You’re so tired that it feels as if there is no more fear to be felt at this point. You stay still and let him come stand in front of you. Negan glances over your head instead of your eyes and you feel his hands start to come up your arms. You flinch away from his fingertips at first, the feeling all too soon after Joe, but you can’t fight anymore.

As fingertips turn to a soft grip on your shoulders, that electric feeling courses through your veins again. His arms slide their way between your back and the wall, bringing you into a firm embrace against his chest. He still has his leather jacket on, and the material squeaks quietly around you. You have no choice but to lean your head against his broad chest, and you can hear his heartbeat thumping loudly. Butterflies swirl nervously in your stomach at the sound, it’s actually beating at a quick pace. _Is he nervous too? Or is it because he just beat someone up?_ You think with a smirk as you imagine Negan punching the man who hurt you.

Negan’s hands rub your back softly and you let out a content sigh. You immediately regret it as Negan chuckles, gaining satisfaction from it. You thought he would make fun of you for it, but instead, he hooks a finger under your chin and lifts your head.

“You are quite the handful, aren’t ya?” He chuckles down to you.

You try and turn your head away, blushing.

He sighs, “I think we’ve both had a pretty rough day.” His voice is low and gravely, “Listen, I don’t know why you felt the need to steal some medical shit when you can just walk on over to Dr. Carson whenever you feel like it, but I sure as hell don’t condone it.”

You feel so tired of this situation with the medical supplies, “…I w-was just scared. I won’t fight if you take it back. I-I was giving them back anyway,” you're suddenly reminded of Joe and your eyes become glossy with tears again, “…he-he just wouldn’t l-let me t-talk…!”

You glance up at Negan after you let your frustration show through your voice. He’s starring down at you with that straight face of his, like he’s processing the information he already knows. Or he’s about to go back to Joe and rip him a new one. But it was more than just Joe for you, you realized. No one ever listens to you, you’re too quiet, too shy. Your voice is easily talked over, and when you do have the floor, your nerves make it impossible to form a proper sentence. Whatever you have to say never comes out the way you want, so then no one ever understands you, and it’s frustrating. It’s alienating, to be misunderstood all the time.

You hadn’t realized it but your hands were in tight fists against Negan’s chest. You release his now distressed Jacket from your grip and try to flatten it out. His deep chuckle catches you off guard and you look up again. He’s smiling down at your attempts to fix his jacket, but it doesn’t seem like he really cares about that at the moment. Negan’s dark, brown eyes are burning into your own. For some reason, this time, you can’t bring yourself to look away. He lifts his hand that was once by your face to brush away some hair sticking to your cheek. You don’t break the gaze as he does so, you’re too distracted by his slow touch. His fingers interlace themselves through your (h/c) hair to cup the back of your head where Joe had pulled so harshly before. Negan is the one who breaks the eye contact for once, glancing above your head.

Suddenly, he locks eyes with you again, and it almost feels too intense this time as he takes a deep breath in, “I will listen to you.”

You feel your heart stop suddenly and breathing becomes difficult. You fear you may pass out as your head becomes very light, grateful Negan’s hand is there to hold it in place. Your mouth slightly opens as if to say something, but nothing comes out. You’re shocked, to say the least. That someone like Negan would even consider making such a promise to you.

You can’t help your insecure mind, “…Why…?”

Negan studies your face for a few seconds, you think your question might have been a bit too real for him to handle. You feel like you might have shown him too much of yourself in that question. You might have shown him just how broken you actually are. _Why do I care if he knows anyway? What does that matter? Why am I so nervous? It’s too hot in here._ Your mind rambles. Negan’s smirk is the only thing that brings your attention back as he leans his face closer to yours. The grip his hand has on the back of your head intensifies and his nose grazes yours. The intense stare breaks as Negan glances down at your lips. You follow his gaze and see his tongue swipe over his lower lip quickly. It’s killing you how close he is to you and you have no idea why. Your heart is beating so fast that you’re sure it might be a heart attack. Negan suddenly leans even closer into you, and you gasp slightly when you finally feel his lips brush against yours. When you don’t try to pull away, you see Negan smirk and push himself flush against you. The movement sends your body into some kind of hysteria, and you can’t even think straight anymore. 

A very small, quiet mewl escapes you, “Negan…”

Negan can’t seem to hold himself back anymore as he presses his lips into yours hungrily. His grip on the back of your head slides down to firmly hold the back of your neck in place. Everything he does feels so certain and confident. His kiss is strong but gentle against you, and his embrace is keeping your shaking body from falling apart. When he pulls back from the kiss, it’s not long before he’s back on your lips. He feels very experienced while you have no idea what to do with yourself. Your entire being is filled with butterflies, and a warm pit is forming in your lower stomach. The feelings are driving you mad and you’re not even sure if you have limbs anymore. 

Negan finally pulls away for more than a few seconds, and is simply staring down at you in his arms against the wall. Your flustered and shaking and are not sure where to look, it’s all just too much for you.

Negan brings out his hand from behind your neck and runs his rough thumb over your swollen bottom lip, “That’s why.”


	7. Good Thing We Got A Spare Dr. Carson!

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Sorry there was a huge gap there, a lot has happened! But most importantly, Walking Dead is back! And just in time to make a new chapter. :3c
> 
> Let's see, there is a character death in this chapter and just the occasional cursing.
> 
> I'll try and get another chapter done next week! I'll see how things plan out haha, if you want updates on this fanfic and also just like to see Negan and happen to have a Tumblr...follow mine!
> 
> NSFW warning: https://whoam-i-kidding.tumblr.com/

The brisk wind runs across your face as you gaze out of the open car window. The smells of spring tingle your nose and sun feels almost warm enough to penetrate your cold anxieties. The bumps vibrate your seat and keep you alert. Simon is sitting next to you in the driver's seat, one hand on the wheel and one hanging out of his window. 

"Nice day, huh?" He mumbles to you.

"…Yup." You reply quietly, uncomfortable with the situation you're in.

You see him from the corner of your eye glance at you and smirk, "Y'know, I can see why Negan likes you."

You tense at the mention of his name. _Negan…_ Last night suddenly invades your mind, sending a chill down your spine. _He kissed me…_ You almost had felt numb to the whole scene that had played out, ignoring that it even happened this morning. When Negan had left your room, it felt so empty and silent. Even though you love having your own personal space, you couldn't figure out why you had wanted him to stay. In the moment of the kiss, it was terrifying and fast. After, however, you longed for his comforting presence to stay, even if it had just been him sitting by your desk while you fell asleep. Although when you try and think about what could've happened if he stayed, well, that kind of scares you. But in a good way?

 _Why do I feel like this…he's evil!_ You scrunch up your nose and shake your head slightly. This man stole you from your regular life, holds helpless people captive, and kills or severely beats anyone who disagrees with him. Not to mention he has a "collection" of wives already. _There's no way he could ever expect me to marry him._ That thought almost makes you laugh out loud.

"Yea, I mean," Simon glances at you from top to bottom, "you're not half bad."

You had almost forgotten that he was talking to you, "…W-what do you mean?"

He shrugs, "Got a pretty face…and are oh-so-innocent." With that he shoots you a broad, cocky smile.

Feeling sick, you look back out your window. The sentence, "I don't want to be here." starts playing on repeat in your head, overlapping in different volumes. You pick anxiously at your palms with you nails, feeling any ounce of self-confidence you may have gained from Negan's kiss last night fade away. You're highly aware of your appearance and how underprepared you are for this task.

Negan had sent Simon to Hilltop to look for Daryl, who you had previously helped escape. All in all, you feel like your breakfast is about to make a second appearance.

Your car comes to a slow halt as you near the tall walls of Hilltop. You haven't been here before, and the site doesn't look promising, but the walls are impressive. It almost warms your heart to see people trying to live normal lives again without the fear of walkers. Some harsh shouts are exchanged, and the gates roll open. You feel like eating your words as the cars filter in and the Saviors step out. 

The place is very cozy and has families bustling about huge gardens. The refreshing site almost brings tears to your eyes. Unfortunately, everyone stares at you and your group with fear and confusion. It breaks your heart that you have to be seen as the bad guy. You want to scream, _"No! I'm not bad! I'm like you! Help me!"_.

Simon leads his group, with you included, into a large mansion in the middle of the Hilltop community. Inside the foyer is an older man with balding white hair. His blue eyes are bulging out of his head in obvious fear, but he puts on a cool, welcoming appearance for Simon. The two start some weird, passive aggressive bickering as to where Daryl is hiding out. Their leader, Gregory, fumbles around Simon's allegations.

You jump as you feel a hand touch your shoulder. A Savior, known as Roy, is looking down at you, signaling for you to follow him. You glance back at Simon to make sure he's not looking, and you silently slip away. A few other Saviors were also breaking off into small groups to probably search the house for Daryl. A lump formed in your throat at the thought of him being found in this house.

You and Roy walked down a few hallways, forcing doors open and looking through drawers. In one of the rooms you were looking through, there was a large bookshelf that caught your attention. Immediately you went over to see what kind of books lay wait for you. You ran your fingers over their spines as you read the titles, dust falling off as you did so. One caught your eye, "Sherlock and the Hounds of Baskerville". _A classic._ you thought with a small smile, remembering having to read this scary book as a kid for school. You pull it out slowly and blow dust off the cover. On the inside, as you flipped through the pages, was the familiar red-eyed, snarling wolf illustration. You laughed, remembering that this was the image that terrified you away from the book as a child. Looking over your shoulder, you see that Roy has left, so you glide the book between your belt and hip and throw your shirt over to cover it. 

Once finished, you catch a wisp of dark brown hair from the corner of your eye. Snapping your head up, you can't find anyone around. A little unsettled now, you make your way to find Roy again. Peeking around the corner, you hear a man's voice talking to what sounds like a young girl. Seeing it's Roy, you walk up behind him and glance over his shoulder. _It IS a young girl! A teenager too, I haven't met one in a while! Well, besides Carl._ You think happily and try to join in on the conversation, shoving yourself beside Roy.

The girl looks over at you and blinks a couple times before going back to Roy, "Y-You don't have to go in there, there's nothing good anyway!"

"Well, if there's nothing good in there, you won't mind me checking." With that, Roy opens the closet door he's been standing beside.

You can tell the girl is very uncomfortable with this intrusion of privacy, and you can't blame her. Having all these grown adults barge into your community and take everything you've worked for. In this new world, it's hard to have even the basics, and now they have to share it with people they don't like. You almost want to punch Roy in the face just because he's the closest available Savior.

The girl shifts around on her feet as Roy shuffles around in the closet. You glance over at her almost apologetically, but she's too stressed to notice. That's when you see it. Or him. Daryl. He's inside the closet. Your heart drops and your blood runs cold. You now understand why she's so scared. _These people know Daryl as well and are trying to help him!"_ Quickly, you try and catch Roy's attention.

"H-hey, I think S-Simon wanted us to go b-back." You stutter terribly, trying to sound as convincing and calm as possible.

Roy stops and glances over at you with a doubtful look. You and the girl stand there stock still, fear holding your muscles tight. 

"Yea. Sure. But I'm taking these." He grabs a cardboard box and walks out.

You and the girl stand quietly as he makes his way down the hall. She suddenly turns to you and takes you in.

"Um…" She doesn't seem to trust you quite yet.

"I know Daryl." You say quickly to help her.

Her eyes shoot up to yours with shock, "W-what?"

You nod, smiling softly, "Y-yea, I helped him escape the Sanctuary…"

The two of you turn towards the closet as Daryl and another woman steps out from hiding. Daryl looks at you and seems to remember. He looks so much better than when you had last seen him. He was so tired and dirty, and now he has good clothes and looks well taken care of. You feel so happy for him.

"Thanks." Daryl mumbles, nodding to you.

The woman next to him smiles and walks out from behind Daryl, "Sorry, he's not much for words," she shakes her head in a joking manner, "thank you so much for risking your safety to help him."

"O-oh absolutely, if I could free all the prisoners I would!" You reply.

"Hi, I'm Maggie, nice to meet you." She reaches out a hand towards you.

You feel taken aback by the nice gesture and gently extend your hand in return, "You too, I'm (y/n)."

"So, you're not part of the Saviors?" Maggie asks.

You shake your head vigorously, "Oh no, god no. I hate them. They kind of jumped me and took me in."

She nods thoughtfully at you, "…Are you okay? Do you need to hide?"

"U-uhm…" You hadn't thought about escaping right now and you're hating yourself for not taking the opportunity before, "I don't think I can, it would only cause more trouble for you guys I think. B-but thank you!"

Maggie frowns and looks to the young girl then back at you, as if contemplating something, "Well, we don't have much time then. Could you be some sort of inside spy for us?"

Your eyes widen, and you can't find any words.

"Listen, there are multiple communities Negan has under his thumb. Families, elders, children, do you understand, (y/n)? We are trying to end this, but we could use the extra set of eyes." She looks at you with pleading eyes.

You swallow hard, "I-I would but…"

"You don't have to do anything. Just…whenever you see me or Daryl, let us know what you know, okay?"

You nod, you can at least do that. Maggie smiles and pats your shoulder, "Thank you, (y/n), we're going to end Negan once and for all."

Again, you can't help from feeling a chill run down your spine at her determined words. _I wish I could be like that._ The younger girl turns towards you suddenly.

"Hey, I think I know you actually." She blurts out.

You gasp slightly, "Yea? How do you know me?"

She chuckles, "You were with Carl when he went all kamikaze on the Saviors yesterday, weren't you?

You remember Carl and how horribly Negan treated him, "Oh, yes! How is he?"

"He's okay, we could all be better…my name's Enid." She nods to you and quickly turns to follow Maggie and Daryl. They're going to a better hiding spot you're sure.

You smile warmly to yourself. _Look at you! Making friends with the enemies._ You make your way back to the foyer where Simon and his troop is leaving through the door.

Simon turns to you, "So you decided to show up after all, beginning to think we lost ya."

You chuckle half-heartedly as he pats you on the back.

"Although, you don't really have a choice, do you?" You stop in your tracks and Simon just smiles and continues walking.

A single tear threatens to slide down your cheek. You stiffly move your feet towards the Savior's cars and trucks. The Hilltop felt so nice and welcoming. Maggie and Enid were so kind, and Daryl is safe. You don't want to leave, you feel like you just got here. As the Hilltop's fence fades in the mirror of Simon's car, you hope to be able to come back one day.

_Back at the Sanctuary_

The squad of vehicles finally pulled up to the Sanctuary where the walkers chomped against the fence. You hop put of the car and look around. It seems oddly quiet and empty beside from the couple of guards on duty. Your group continued into the building and you follow closely, scared you'll get lost. Inside, a huge crowd had formed around a burning furnace. As you came up to the side of the crowd to see what was happening, Negan emerged from the door everyone was facing. You feel your heart stop at the site of him wielding Lucile.

Negan stops in the middle of the crowd and points his bat towards a man you don't recognize, "You are gonna want to pay close attention to this." 

Suddenly, Negan brings down his bat onto a tall man's shoulder like a lightning bolt. You flinch away and gasp as it took you completely off guard. 

The man let out a painful howl, "No, no, no, no! Why? I-I didn't do anything!"

Negan bends over to the cowering man after pulling out a slip of paper from his jacket, "I found this little souvenir tucked away in your desk."

The trembling man looks at it with disbelief, "I-I don't know what that is…!"

Negan circles the poor man as the crowd watches on, not doing anything to stop him.

"You left the door open and let my puppy out." You cringe at how Negan regards people, "You knew Sherry hated Daryl being here, so you let him out for her, to be the hero."

 _No._ Your mind goes blank with fear, _He's talking about Daryl, he thinks this man let Daryl out and now he's going to punish him!_ Your palms are extremely slick with worry now and you begin to pick at your fingers.

"No, no, please!" The man called out as Negan threatened him with a hot iron from the furnace.

_Oh god, I can't handle this._

"Now you know I hate this shit. Just tell me you did it and that you're sorry…and I don't have to do this." Negan smiles down at him.

The pained man considers his options.

"Yes. Yes, I did it. All of it. Sorry…I'm so sorry…please, I'm so sorry." The man's voice shakes.

"That's all you had to say," Negan lunges at the man, grabbing him by his clothes, and thrusts him into the furnace face first, "that's all you had to say."

You nearly let out a full-hearted shriek but maintain a small yelp. You notice no one is affected by this at all like you. Not a single cry to stop what's happening. They all just watch and let it be. You feel insanely shaky and can't seem to find the ground anymore. The man's screams of pain scorch your brain and assault your ears. The shrieking bounces off the cold, metal walls.

"A good thing we got a spare Dr. Carson!" Negan calls out, chuckling.

Your head shoots up, _Dr...Carson...?_ Black spots start to make appear in your vision. Your chest feels like it just caved in on itself and it's hard to take in any air. Every part of your body is numb and cold, your eyes burn to release tears. For the second time today, you're so nauseous you may vomit right here. People are moving around you, but all sounds are dulled, and a high pitch ring is all you can hear. The worst part is the smell. You can smell Dr. Carson's burning flesh. It's choking you, invading your senses, ingraining itself inside your memory forever. The only person you trusted here, gone. Because of you. Because you let Daryl out. Somehow this all lead up to Carson's death, and you did nothing to stop it.

A stern hand presses against your lower back uncomfortably. Every touch feels like needles and electricity.

"There you are, baby girl, enjoy the show?" Negan's deep voice whispered into your ear.

He comes up in front of you, hand still firm to your back, and brings the other to brush your arm. He's trying to get your attention, but you know you're overstimulated right now and will fail at any type of communication.

You shake your head slightly and keep your eyes glued to the floor. You hear him grunt in disapproval as you try and take a few weak steps away from him.

"Hey, I'm talking to you-" He starts but is cut off as you finally break.

He wouldn't let you go and now you feel trapped and claustrophobic. You can't get the taste of burnt skin out of your throat and Dr. Carson's screams are echoing in your head. 

"I-it wasn't his fault! How could you do that! You fucking idiot! What the fuck is wrong with you! You're a psychopath! Let GO of me!" You shriek at the floor, clutching your fists tight to your chest.

Negan's grip left you almost as soon as you raised your voice, obviously catching him by surprise. Your outburst caught the attention of a few Saviors still lingering around. They ran over, ready to pin you down in case you tried anything. Negan raised his hand and told them to "fuck off". You were still shaking violently and your guilt continued to make you feel sick. You were sure that you stood there staring at the floor for hours, Negan probably thinking of ways to punish you. _He probably regrets last night now. Why do I have to be like this?_ You couldn't take the silence any longer.

"D-Dr. Carson didn't let Daryl free…" You take a shaky breath in, "I did."

Negan bursts into a dark chuckle, "Don't try and turn this around, Dr. Carson got was coming for him. You, on the other hand…"

He reaches a finger under your chin to lift your face up but you flinch away, "N-no! I'm not trying to turn around anything! I-I _did_ do it!"

"Hey…" Negan brushes hair stuck to your flustered cheeks away, "I know you two were friendly with each other, sorry you had to see that."

His words touched you for some reason. _Was that an apology?_ You hesitantly look up at him with puffy eyes. A smile breaks from him when you finally grant him eye contact.

He whistles, "Nothing better than that, huh?"

You're a little confused as to what he was referring to, but you instinctively took it as a compliment. You could feel your face warming up again.

"I got an idea," Negan huffed as he wrapped an arm over your shoulder to lead you out the door, "how about we have a little one on one time?"

You cracked open your mouth to say something, anything, but nothing came out. Your throat felt incredibly dry and your head was still fuzzy and incoherent. All you really felt like doing was climbing into bed for the rest of winter. Although, you couldn't help the sense of security you felt now that Negan was with you again. Whether that security is fake or not, you decided to let yourself indulge in it. It had been a long time since anyone made you feel as safe as you do with this man. _Might as well enjoy something here while a prisoner before I lose my sanity._

_Later that evening_

Layers of orange and red blanket the sky as twilight stars start to sparkle for the night. The pine trees surrounding you look so surreal against the setting sun. A hard contrast to the icy breeze making its way through the forest. You and Negan had parked on top of a small hill that overlooked rolling grasslands. The grass you sat on was rather crunchy, but it was better than being cooped up in the Sanctuary any longer. You weren't entirely sure where Negan had gone, you'd lost track a few minutes ago. It seemed like he couldn't keep still. You sat contently on the grass taking in nature while he kept pacing from the truck, to you, and back. Of course, he never said or emoted that he was stressed, but you couldn't help wondering.

A snapping twig shocked you back into reality as the man you were thinking of arrived. He emerged from the shadows of the pine forest and took a seat next to you. You almost sighed, feeling relieved that he was finally restful enough to sit down. Although now it made you anxious because of how close he was. 

"So, what's your story?" Negan asked out of nowhere.

"U-uhm, what?" You stuttered.

He smirked, "Yea, come on, everyone was someone before all this."

"Oh," You sighed, "Uhm…I was just a college student…"

"Oooh, smarty-pants."

"Aha…nah not really. I-I was an art student, wasn't really sure what to do with my life." You smirk and glance over at Negan, "I worked at the movie theater on my campus."

Negan caught the glimpse of excitement in your eyes and laid down on his back, "You don't fuckin' say?"

You nodded, "Yep, I loved that job. It was a small theater, so I didn't have to work often. Got free popcorn and candy. Had a good relationship with my coworkers…" your voice trailed off.

You feel Negan's fingertips brush your shoulder and you glimpse over at him again. He's still laying comfortably on the grass but maintains eye contact all the same. You shrug, not really wanting to talk about your past anymore, you feel exhausted. Negan pats the patch of grass next to him and you give in, gently lowering yourself onto your back as well. You catch yourself as you notice he had slipped an arm where your head would go. You hesitate at first, glancing at his face with concern. Negan rolls his eyes and wraps his arm around your shoulders to bring you next to him. You place your hands instinctively on his chest, your torso pressing against him as you lay on your side.

"Why won't you talk to me like this more often?" He grumbled to you.

"…W-well there's a lot of reasons why." You grumble in return.

You feel his chest vibrate as he snickers at your remark, "So, you were a college student. You worked. Did what just happen back at the Sanctuary ever happen then?"

You tense up, "What happened back the Sanctuary…?" 

You hear his head rustle the grass as he nods, "What? You thought I was fucking clueless of what was going on?"

Before you answer, he sighs, "I was a coach before all this. I dealt with kids and young adults all the time."

"W-wait, a-are you talking about…m-my…" The words remained stuck in your throat.

It's always been hard for you to talk about your mental illness and insecurities. They are, quite literally, your greatest weaknesses. Whenever you had to talk to someone about it, even a therapist, you always ended in tears. You hate crying in front of people, especially those you look up to. You already felt like you were walking a thin line with your physical appearance, and adding a public breakdown was not something you wanted to happen. In turn, this made you become mute to expressing your mental battles and emotions. Leaving you feeling helpless and isolated.

"I-I don't like this." You say sternly.

Negan tightens his grip on you, "I want to learn about you, (y/n). Can't do that unless you talk to me."

You shrug again, the effort of forming words too much at the moment. You wouldn't mind talking out your feelings right now, but it just felt like it would end bad. He didn't believe you when you said you had let Daryl free. For all he knows, you haven't even met Daryl formally yet. You sense Negan wouldn't understand what's in your head. You're just another crying little girl to him, looking for something to hold onto. It made you wonder why he even puts this much effort into you. Why he always smiles when he sees you, or why he protects you, or why he takes time out of his day to lay down with you under the stars. This moment, in fact, suddenly felt fake and out of character. _How could some leather jacket-wearing, skull smashing man like me? It's not adding up. He's probably just trying to use me._

Now Negan's jacket smelled a lot like cooking skin, "I'll let you learn about me if you do the same in return." You sat up, scrunching your nose, "Because I don't get you."


End file.
